SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 


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OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

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SIOIJO.  Robert,  soldier,  b.  in  Gla 

land,  in  172*3  ;  d.  after  1770.     Bis  father,  William 
wasa  wealthy  merchant.     The  son  was  rery  deli 
catein  his  youth,  bul  earlj  gave  evidenced  I 
arms,  spending  his  play-hours  in  drilling  I 

pai s.     Both  his  parents  bad  died  before  I ;  12 

and,  after  studying  for  some  time  in  the  universitj 
"'  his  native  place,  he  wenJ  to.  Virginia  aboul  thai 
reaf  and  became  a  merchant,  n.  r.  ho  kepi  or.ei 
house  and  was  a  greal  soi  ia]  favorite,  bul  mel 
with  little  success  in  business,  and  in  1 754  was  ap- 
pointed senior  captain  in  a  regiment  thai  was 
raj  i  .1  bj  the  province  to  oppose  the  French, 
under  his  direction  the  intrenchments  ealli 
Necessity  were  thrown  up.  and  when  finally  Mai. 
George  Washington  was  obliged  to  surrender  the 
work,  Stobo  was  one  of  two  ho 
given  to  the  French  to  secure  proper  performance 
of  the  articles  of  capitulation.  Be  was  sen!  to 
Fori  Du  Quesne,  and  occupied  himself  with  draw- 
ing a  plan  of  thai  stronghold,  which,  with  a  writ- 
ten scheme  for  its  reduction,  he  senl  to  u 
■sanding  officer  aj   Will-  Creek     Be  was 

aided  in  obtaining  his  information  by  the  ladies  ii 
tin;  fort,  whose  good  graces  he  soon  succeeded  ii 
gaming.     Be  considered   that   the   wanl    0f  goo< 
faith  thai  the  French  had  shown  in  various  mat- 
ters absolved  him  "from  all  obligations  of  honoi 
on  this  point."     Hi-  letter-  fell  into  the  hands  ol 
the  brench  at  Braddock's  defeat,  whereupon  Stobi 
wasclosely  imprisoned  at   Quebec.     Be  escaped  in 
I  (5b,  but  was  captured,  confined  in  a  dungeon, and 
"."  *o.-Nov.  was  condemned  to  death  a-  a  spy  hut 
the  km-  laded  I,,  approve  the  sentence.     On  30 
April.   1757,  he  escaped  again,  hut   he  was  recap- 
tured three  days  later,     on   30   April     1758    he 
made  another  attempt,  and  succeeded  in  effecting 
his  escape  with  several  companions  in  a  birch-bark 
canoe.     After  meeting  with  many  adventures  and 
travelling  thirty-eighl  days  they  reached  the  Brit- 
ish  army    before  Louisburg,  where  Stobo  was  of 
much  service  hy  his  knowledge  of  localities      He 
had  been  promoted  major  during  his  captivity  and 
pej  returning  to  Virginia  sailed  in  1760  for  Eng- 
land, wEereTon  3  June.  inn.  he  was  commissioned 
captain  in  the  loth  foot.     Be  served  in  the  Wesi 
Indie-  m   1762,  bul   returned  to  England  in   17C7 
and  resigned  in  1770.    On    his    visii  to  Virginia' 
after  hi- captivity  the  legislature  thanked  him  by 
name  for  his  services,  and  void  him  the  sum  of 
L1...00.     Stoho  wasa  friend  of  Tobias  Smolletl    the 

novelist,  who,  it  has  I „  suggested,  describes  him 

as  Captain  Lismahago  in    "Humphrey  Clinker." 
he  original  edition  of  Stobo's  "Memoirs"  (] 

don\  lM, s  pow  rare,     a  manuscripl  copy  was 

obtained  bj  .lame-  McBenry  iron,  the  British 
museum,  and  published,  with  notes,  addenda  ami 
a  fac-simde  of  Stobo's  plan  of  Fori  Dn  Quesne  bj 
*N.  B.  C.  as  ••  Memoirs  of  Major  Robert  Stobo  oi 
the  \ir-iiua  Regiment"  (Pittsburg,  1854).  This 
unique  work  i-  largely  written  in  an  imitation  of 
the  classical  epic  style. 


Some  Hidden  Sources 
of  Fiction 


A   Paper  Read  Before  the  Historical  Society 
of  Dauphin  County,  Pennsylvania 

BY 
BENJAMIN    MATTHIAS  NEAD 

Ex-President  of  the  Pennsylvania-German  Society;  Vice  Presi- 
dent   of    the    Historical    Society    of    Dauphin    County, 
Pennsylvania  ;  Member  of  the  American  Historical 
Association,  the  Kittochtinny  Historical 
Society,  the  Genealogical  Society 
of  Pennsylvania,  etc.,  etc. 


Printed  for  Private  Circulation 

BY 

George  W.  Jacobs  Sc  Company 

Philadelphia 

1909 


r/v 
7>W 


SOME    HIDDEN    SOURCES 
OF    FICTION 

Mere  tombstone  information  is  neither  a  valuable 
nor  a  desirable  acquisition.    Familiarity  with  history 
benefits  us  only  by  increasing  our  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  furnishing  us  with  examples  of  character  to  be 
emulated  or  avoided  and  enabling  us,  from  experience 
of  the  past,  to  predict  the  probable  consequences  of 
present  conduct. 
to       The  well-written  historical  novel  has  attained  de- 
\:i  served  popularity  because,  while  faithful  in  the  por- 
>r  trayal  of  important  historical  characters  and  in  the  de- 
\  scription  of  well-known  historical  events,  the  author 
z;  changes  what  to  many  is  a  repulsive  skeleton  into  a 
thing  of  life  and  blood,  by  introducing  minor  person- 
cm  ages  and  events,  partly  or  wholly  fictitious,  in  order  to 
in  show  the  customs,  habits,  costumes,  dialect  and  spirit 
g  of  times  with  which  the  average  reader  cannot  be  fa- 
miliar.   Thus  it  happens  that  all  the  valuable  lessons 
of  history  are  sometimes  conveyed  to  our  minds  by 
d  works  which  are  largely  fiction. 

In  order  to  acquire  correct  surroundings,  atmosphere 
o   and  colloquial  expressions  for  his  fictitious  characters, 
ui   the  author  of  a  historical  novel  must  have  in  mind  real 
j  persons,  who  involuntarily  serve  as  models  for  the 
<   creatures  of  his  imagination.    Sometimes  the  fictitious 
representations  are  of  such  a  composite  nature  that  it 
is  impossible  to  detect  the  originals  from  which  they 
were  derived;  but  occasionally  we  find  familiar  person- 
ages masquerading  in  such  works  under  strange  names 


2  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

and  fictitious  characters  credited  with  deeds  actually 
performed  in  a  locality  and  time  quite  remote  from  that 
described.  The  usual  practice  among  writers  of  his- 
torical fiction  is,  however,  to  utilize  the  established 
facts  of  history  and  to  fill  in  the  minor  details  with 
fiction,  and  it  is  rather  unusual  to  find,  as  we  shall 
later,  that  an  author  has  presented  historical  facts,  not 
accessible  to  the  general  reader,  in  such  a  way  as  to 
leave  the  impression  that  most  of  the  persons  he  de- 
scribes and  the  incidents  he  narrates  originated  in  his 
own  imagination. 

Long  familiar  with  traditions,  legends  and  stories 
which  cast  a  side  light  of  romance  upon  the  history  of 
his  country  and  his  native  State,  the  writer  has  not 
failed  to  note  that  masters  of  fiction  have  neglected  a 
most  fruitful  field  of  labor,  and  have  failed  to  reap  an 
abundant  harvest  by  not  seeking  more  frequently  in- 
spiration and  food  for  fancy  in  the  tales  still  current 
regarding  early  American  pioneers,  particularly  among 
the  mountains  and  in  the  river  valleys  of  the  old  pro- 
vince and  commonwealth  of  Pennsylvania. 

Nevertheless,  romantic  incidents  of  American  origin 
occur  more  frequently  in  literature  than  most  persons 
suppose,  and  the  persistent  investigator  into  the  sources 
of  fiction  is  sometimes  rewarded  with  surprising  re- 
sults. 

Many  years  ago  a  small  group  of  the  younger  stu- 
dents of  Yale  stood  near  a  hallowed  spot,  just  back  of 
the  old  Centre  Church  on  New  Haven  Green,  and  for  the 
first  time  heard  from  lips  then  eloquent,  but  now  long 
silent,  the  story  of  the  English  regicides  whose  remains 
are  supposed  to  rest  there.  A  thrilling  traditional  de- 
tail of  that  story,  breathing  the  very  spirit  of  romance, 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF   FICTION  3 

referred  to  the  Indian  attack,  in  the  long  ago,  upon  the 
New  England  village  of  Badley  and  the  mysterious  ap- 
pearance and  timely  assistance  supposed  to  have  been 
rendered  by  one  ol*  that  company  of  exiles. 

One,  at  least,  of  that  group  of  students  has  never  for- 
gotten the  tradition,  and  when,  some  years  later,  he 
read  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Peveril  of  the  Peak,  he  recog 
nized  it  at  once,  and  became  convinced  that  an  incident, 
bearing  within  it  the  germ  of  true  romance,  no  matter 
what  its  locale,  is  sure  to  be  seized  and  turned  to  the 
uses  of  the  discriminating  and  masterful  writer. 

Major  Bridgenorth,  the  friend  of  Sir  Geoffry  and 
Julian  Peveril,  engages  Julian  in  conversation,  and  the 
latter,  replying  to  one  of  the  major's  periods,  says:  "It 
must  be  a  noble  sight  to  behold  the  slumbering  ener- 
gies of  a  great  mind  awakened  into'  energy  and  to  see 
it  assume  the  authority  which  is  its  due  over  spirits 
more  meanly  endowed."  To  this  Bridgenorth  replies: 
"I  once  witnessed  something  to  the  same  effect,  and,  as 
the  tale  is  brief,  I  will  tell  it  you,  if  you  will."  His  au- 
ditor assenting,  he  proceeds.  "Amongst  my  wanderings 
the  transatlantic  settlements  have  not  escaped  me;  more 

especially  the  country  of  New  England I 

was  by  chance  in  a  small  village  in  the  woods,  more 

than  thirty  miles  from  Boston It  was  on  a 

Sabbath  morning,   when  we  had   assembled   to  take 

sweet  counsel  together  in  the  Lord's  house 

An  excellent  worthy,  who  now  sleeps  in  the  Lord,  Nehe- 
miah  Solsgrace,  long  the  companion  of  my  pilgrimage, 
had  just  begun  to  wrestle  in  prayer,  when  a  woman, 
with  disordered  looks  and  dishevelled  hair,  entered  our 
chapel,  in  a  distracted  manner,  screaming  incessantly 
'  The  Indians !    The  Indians ! '  " 


4  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

After  a  most  vivid  description  of  the  attack  on  the 
village,  the  narrator  tells  of  the  appearance  of  the  mys- 
terious leader. 

"A  tall  man  of  a  reverend  appearance,  whom  no  one 
of  us  had  ever  seen  before,  suddenly  was  in  the  midst 
of  us,  as  we  hastily  agitated  the  resolution  of  retreat- 
ing. His  garments  were  of  the  skin  of  the  elk  and  he 
wore  sword  and  carried  gun.  I  never  saw  anything 
more  august  than  his  features,  overshadowed  by  locks 
of  grey  hair,  which  mingled  with  a  long  beard  of  the 
same  colour.  'Men  and  brethren,'  he  said,  in  a  voice 
like  that  which  turns  back  the  flight,  'why  sink  your 
hearts  and  why  are  you  thus  disquieted?  Fear  ye  that 
the  God  we  serve  will  give  you  up  to  yonder  heathen 
dogs?  Follow  me  and  you  shall  see,  this  day,  that  there 
is  a  captain  in  Israel ! '  " 

Then  follows  the  story  of  the  deliverance,  told  by 
Bridgenorth  ' '  with  an  eloquence  and  vivacity  of  detail, 
very  contrary  to  the  usual  dryness  of  his  conversation, ' ' 
concluding  the  whole  with  this  explanation  to  Julian, 
who  had  been  a  most  eager  inquirer  and  listener:  "I 
only  tell  you  what  you  desired  to  know  that  Richard 
Whalley,  one  of  the  late  King's  judges,  was  he  of  whom 
I  have  just  been  speaking." 

This  New  England  tradition  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  also 
found  of  use,  and  his  good  taste  in  using  it  has  been  fre- 
quently recognized  and  commented  upon.  One  of  the 
formal  explanatory  notes  to  Peveril  of  the  Peak  reads 
thus:  "This  singular  story  (referring  to  the  Wli alley 
tradition)  has  lately  afforded  the  justly  celebrated 
American  novelist,  Mr.  Cooper,  the  materials  from 
which  he  has  compiled  one  of  those  impressive  narra- 
tives of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  the  transatlantic 


SOME  BIDDEN  SOURCES  OF   FIl  HON 

woods  and  the  hardy  Europeans  by  whom  they 
invaded  and  dispo  I." 


The  development  of  a  literary  spirit  among  the  Penn- 
sylvania pioneers  was  slow.    They  understood  be1 
how  to  handle  the  rifle  than  to  use  the  pen,  were  too 
busy  making  history  to  record  it,  and  the  every  day 
events  in  their  lives  furnished  them  with  su  for 

thought  sufficiently  exciting  without  enterii  do- 

main of  fiction  and  fancy.  Philadelphia  and  its  historic 
neighborhood,  the  valley  of  Wyoming,  the  headwaters 
of  the  Delaware,  "the  country  west  of  Susquehanna, 
toward  the  setting  sun,"  the  military  posts,  from  Low- 
ther  at  Carlisle  to  Du  Quesne  at  the  forks  of  the  west- 
ern rivers,  were  localities  prolific  in  deeds  of  daring  and 
self-sacrifice,  such  as  would  satisfy  the  demands  of  the 
most  exacting  novelist.  But  the  romantic  incidents,  the 
heroic  deeds,  the  actual  occurrences  in  the  lives  of  in- 
dividuals, except  in  the  case  of  the  more  conspicuous 
actors,  have  been  left  unrecorded,  perhaps  because  they 
lacked  sufficient  dignity  to  warrant  mention  in  history; 
but  they  are,  nevertheless,  pregnant  with  great  possi- 
bilities in  the  hands  of  a  modem  master  of  fiction. 


When  Dr.  Robert  Montgomery  Bird,  the  rugged,  old- 
time  novelist  of  Philadelphia,  and  Bayard  Taylor,  with 
more  even  culture,  must  find  outlaw  characters  to  spice 
their  tales,  they  sought  for  prototypes  in  natural  sur- 
roundings, the  hidden  coves  of  the  Welsh  Hills  and  the 
lower  South  Mountain,  the  fastnesses  and  remote  places 
along  the  Delaware  and  across  the  Susquehanna,  in  the 
mystery-breeding  Kittochtinny  and  through  the  fertile 
Cumberland  Valley,  where  high  mountain  ranges  on 


6  SOME  BIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

both  sides,  in  a  great  measure  isolating  the  early  in- 
habitants from  friends  east  and  west,  arc  responsible 
for  developing  a  force  of  character  that  lias  been  felt  in 
the  history  of  the  State  ever  since. 

No  one  familiar  with  the  stories  told  of  the  Doanes 
and  the  Xugents— "no  shabby  villains,"  one  compla- 
cent chronicler  assures  us— who  in  early  days  "oper- 
ated," to  the  dismay  and  terror  of  the  people,  from  the 
Delaware  Water  Gap,  through  the  Cumberland  Valley 
and  down  into  Virginia;  no  one  who  has  read  the  thrill- 
ing confession  of  David  Lewis,  the  robber,  a  name  we]  I- 
known,  some  eighty  years  ago,  to  every  man,  woman 
and  child  along  the  southern  border  of  Pennsylvania; 
no  one  acquainted  with  the  traditions  relating  to  these 
worthies  can  fail  to  suspect  kinship  with  Aaron  Doane 
and  David  Lewis  in  the  Sandy  Flash  of  Bayard  Tay- 
lor's Story  of  Kennett,  or  to  see  in  the  daring  acts  of 
Oran  Gilbert,  as  related  in  Dr.  Bird's  Hawks  of  Hawk 
Hollow,  the  once  notorious  deeds  of  Benjamin  and 
James  Nugent. 

All  who  have  read  that  inimitable  masterpiece  and 
burlesque  chronicle  of  Washington  Irving,  entitled 
A  History  of  Nezu  York,  from  the  Beginning  of  the  World 
to  the  End  of  the  Dutch  Dynasty,  by  Diedrich  Knicker- 
bocker, will  surely  remember  the  serious  issue  which 
arose  between  General  Van  Poffenburgh,  as  a  strict  dis- 
ciplinarian, and  Keldermeester,  over  an  order  which 
compelled  both  officers  and  privates  to  appear  for  duty 
with  closely  cropped  hair. 

"Now  it  came  to  pass  that  among  his  officers  was 
one,  Keldermeester,  a  sturdy  veteran,"  says  the  vera- 
cious  historian,    "who    had    cherished,    through    the 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  7 

course  of  a  long  life,  a  rugged  mop  of  hair,  not  a  little 
resembling  the  shag  of  a  Newfoundland  dog,  terminat- 
ing with  an  immoderate  queue,  Like  the  handle  of  a 
frying  pan,  ....  It  may,  naturally,  be  supposed 
that  the  possessor  of  so  goodly  an  appendage  would  re- 
sist, with  abhorrence,  an  order  condemning  it  to  the 
shears.  On  hearing  the  general  orders,  he  discharged  a 
tempest  of  veteran,  soldier-like  oaths  and  dunder  and 
blixums,— swore  he  would  break  any  man's  head  who 
attempted  to  meddle  with  his  tail,  — queued  it  stiffer 
than  ever  and  whisked  it  about  the  garrison  as  fiercely 
as  the  tail  of  a  crocodile. 

"The  eel-skin  queue  of  old  Keldermeester  became 
instantly  an  affair  of  the  utmost  importance.  The 
Commander-in-Chief  was  too  enlightened  an  officer  not 
to  perceive  that  the  discipline  of  the  garrison,  the  sub- 
ordination and  good  order  of  the  armies  of  the  Nieuw 
Xederlandts,  the  consequent  safety  of  the  whole  pro- 
vince and  ultimately  the  dignity  and  prosperity  of  their 
High  Mightinesses,  the  Lords  States  General,  but  above 
all  the  dignity  of  the  great  General  Van  Poffenburgh,  all 
imperiously  demanded  the  docking  of  that  stubborn 
queue.  He  therefore  determined  that  old  Kelder- 
meester should  be  publicly  shorn  of  his  glories,  in  the 
presence  of  the  whole  garrison,— the  old  man  as  reso- 
lutely stood  on  the  defensive,— whereupon  the  General, 
as  became  a  great  man,  was  highly  exasperated  and  the 
offender  was  arrested  and  tried  by  a  court  martial  for 
mutiny,  desertion  and  all  the  other  list  of  offenses,  no- 
ticed in  the  Articles  of  War,  ending  with  a  'videlicet, 
in  wearing  an  eel-skin  queue,  three  feet  long,  contrary 
to  orders.'  Then  came  on  arraignments,  and  trials, 
and  pleadings ;  and  the  whole  country  was  in  a  f erment 


8  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

about  this  unfortunate  queue.  As  it  is  well  known  that 
the  commander  of  a  distant  frontier  post  has  the  power 
of  acting  pretty  much  after  his  own  will,  there  is  little 
doubt  that  the  veteran  would  have  been  hanged,  or 
shot  at  least,  had  he  not  luckily  fallen  ill  of  a  fever, 
through  mere  chagrin  and  mortification,  and  most  flagi- 
tiously deserted  from  all  earthly  command,  with  his 
beloved  locks  unviolated.  His  obstinancy  remained 
unshaken  to  the  very  last  moment,  when  he  directed 
that  he  should  be  carried  to  his  grave  with  his  eel-skin 
queue  sticking  out  of  a  hole  in  his  coffin. ' ' 

Where  did  Washington  Irving  find  the  prototype  for 
Van  Poffenburgh  and  Kelderineester?  In  little,  old 
Dutch  New  York?  No !  We  are  told  that  the  originals 
of  these  characters  were  not  even  cotemporan- 
eous  with  the  Knickerbocker  personages,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  lived  more  than  one  hundred  years  later. 

Among  the  most  prominent  people  living  near  Car- 
lisle, in  the  Cumberland  Valley,  Pennsylvania,  during 
the  Revolutionary  period,  was  the  family  of  James 
Butler;  whose  five  sons,  known  as  ''The  Five  Fighting 
Butlers,"  attained  remarkable  fame  in  the  military 
history  of  the  country  during  the  Revolution  and  the 
following  decade.  James  Wilson,  one  of  the  signers  of 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  and,  subsequently,  the 
great  advocate  of  the  adoption  of  the  first  Federal  Con- 
stitution, was  practicing  law  in  the  town  of  Carlisle, 
when  the  Revolution  began.  In  his  office  was  a  young 
student-at-law,  only  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  Thomas 
Butler  by  name.  This  young  man,  on  January  5,  1776, 
accepted  a  commission  as  first  lieutenant  in  Colonel 
Arthur  St.  Clair's  Second  Pennsylvania  Battalion,  and 
left  the  peaceful  pursuit  of  the  law  to  enter  upon  a 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  9 

military  career,  afterwards  characterized  by  the  brav- 
est and  most  intrepid  conduct  and  crowned  with 
marked  success.  Thomas  was  perhaps  the  best  known 
of  "The  Five  Fighting  Butlers,"  and  was  publicly 
thanked  for  bravery  on  the  field  of  battle  by  Washing- 
ton at  Brandywine  and  by  Wayne  at  Monmouth. 

As  late  as  1801,  Colonel  Thomas  Butler  was  still  con- 
nected with  the  army.  Brigadier  General  James  Wil- 
kinson, whose  characteristics,  particularly  the  exagger- 
ated importance  he  attached  to  strict  discipline,  are 
well  remembered,  was  then  Commander-in-Chief.  Be- 
tween him  and  Colonel  Thomas  Butler  arose  the  famous 
dispute  which  Washington  Irving  made  the  casus  belli 
between  Van  Poffenburgh  (Wilkinson)  and  Kelder- 
meester  (Cellar-master  or  Butler). 

This  agreement  between  fiction  and  fact  was  first 
pointed  out  by  the  writer's  old  friend,  coworker  and 
trusted  authority,  the  Eev.  J.  M.  Murray,  D.  D.,  of  Car- 
lisle, now  passed  away,  in  his  exhaustive  biographical 
sketch  of  the  Butlers  of  the  Cumberland  Valley,  pre- 
pared more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago. 

It  is  said  that  Wilkinson  was  jealous  of  Butler  and 
that  his  disciplinary  order,  issued  to  the  army,  that 
"the  hair  is  to  be  cropped  without  exception,"  was 
particularly  directed  against  Colonel  Butler,  who  wore 
a  long  and  well-powdered  queue. 

"What  must  we  do?"  queried  the  subordinate  offi- 
cers and  men  of  Butler's  command,  when  the  order 
reached  them.  Butler's  reply  was:  "What  is  the  duty 
of  a  soldier;  to  obey  orders  is  it  not?  What  do  I  de- 
sign doing?  Ah,  that  is  another  matter.  The  Al- 
mighty gave  me  my  hair  and  no  earthly  power  shall  de- 
prive me  of  it." 


10  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

This  was  rank  insubordination.  General  Wilkinson 
at  first  granted  indulgence  to  Butler  on  account  of  kis 
ill-health,  but  tkis  was  later  withdrawn,  and  a  court 
martial  ordered  to  try  the  recalcitrant  colonel  for ' '  will- 
ful, obstinate  and  continued  disobedience  of  orders  and 
for  mutinous  conduct."  This  court  sentenced  Colonel 
Butler  to  suspension,  but,  pending  execution  of  the 
sentence,  the  old  soldier  died,  still  wearing  his  hair. 


When  the  writer  read,  for  the  first  time,  Sir  Gilbert 
Parker's  exquisite  novel,  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty,  there 
seemed  to  be  something  strangely  familiar  about  the 
story.  This  feeling  came  over  him  more  than  once,  but 
was  finally  dismissed  as  one  of  those  peculiar  tricks  of 
mind  which  all  have  experienced.  Not  very  long  ago, 
having  occasion  to  overhaul  the  shelves  of  his  library, 
he  ran  across  a  little  volume  of  less  than  one  hundred 
pages,  which  he  had  not  looked  into  for,  possibly,  thirty 
years.  He  had  glanced  over  but  a  few  of  its  pages  to 
refresh  his  recollection  of  the  contents,  when  his  mind 
was  illumined  in  the  most  unexpected  and  extraordi- 
nary manner. 

The  title  of  this  little  book  is  Memoirs  of  Major  Robert 
Stobo;  of  the  Virginia  Regiment.  It  was  compiled  and 
published  at  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  in  the  year 
1854,  by  Neville  B.  Craig,  the  elder;  a  gentleman  of 
wide  literary  culture  and,  in  his  day,  a  high  authority 
on  American  history,  biography  and  genealogy,  par- 
ticularly as  related  to  Western  Pennsylvania  prior  to 
the  War  of  1812.* 


*Neville  B.  Craig  was  the  son  of  Major  Isaac  Craig,  an  officer  of 
Proctor's  Artillery  during  the  Revolution,  and  the  grandson  of  General 
John  Neville,  who  served  on  Braddock's  expedition  against  Fort  Du- 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  11 

Mr.  Craig's  interest  in  Major  Stobo  was  first  awak- 
ened by  the  perusal  of  certain  letters,  written  by  that 
remarkable  man  in  the  year  1754,  and  he  became 
"seized  with  an  anxious,  longing  desire  to  know  more 
of  the  high-spirited,  self-sacrificing  patriot  and  sol- 
dier who  wrote  them."  He  had  seen  a  Letter  from 
David  Hume,  the  English  historian,  to  Tobias  Smollet, 
the  novelist,  to  the  effect  that  Major  Stobo  had  met 
with  some  "remarkable  adventures."  He  also  learned 
that  a  manuscript  copy  of  the  Memoirs  of  Major  Robert 
Stobo  was  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  By  rare 
good  fortune,  through  the  kind  offices  of  a  friend  in 
England,  he  later  obtained  a  copy  of  this  interesting 
paper,  which  he  published  in  the  volume  referred  to, 

Quesne,  was  colonel  of  the  Fourth  Virginia  Regiment  throughout  the 
Revolution,  and  filled  many  other  positions,  both  civil  and  military,  in 
the  service  of  his  country. 

One  of  Mr.  Craig's  brothers,  Colonel  Henry  Knox  Craig,  served  with 
distinction  in  the  Mexican  War  and  afterwards  became  head  of  the 
Ordnance  Department  at  Washington.  Another  brother,  Dr.  Presley 
Hamilton  Craig,  was  chief  surgeon  of  General  Taylor's  army  in  Mexico. 
Neville  B.  Craig  was  born  in  the  old  redoubt  of  Fort  Pitt,  March  29th, 
1787,  was  educated  in  the  private  schools  of  Pittsburg,  and  at  Princeton 
College,  studied  law  under  Judge  Alexander  Addison,  was  admitted 
to  the  Bar  in  1810,  married  Jane  Ann  Fulton  in  181 1,  was  appointed 
Deputy  Attorney  General  for  Allegheny  county  in  1821,  was  editor  and 
proprietor  of  the  Pittsburg  Gazette  from  1829  till  1841,  was  elected  to 
the  Pennsylvania  Legislature  in  1842,  and  defeated,  as  the  Union  can- 
didate for  Congress,  in  1843.  His  published  works  include  the  Olden 
Time  (1846-7),  History  of  Pittsburgh  (1851),  Memoirs  of  Major  Robert 
Stobo  (1854),  Sketch  of  the  Life  and  Services  of  Major  Isaac  Craig 
(1854),  a  criticism  of  H.  M.  Breckenridge's  History  of  the  Western  In- 
surrection (1859),  and,  in  the  same  year,  Registeres  des  Baptismes  et 
Sepultures  qui  se  sont  fait  au  Fort  Du  Quesne.  He  was  Vice  Presi- 
dent of  the  Historical  Society  of  Pennsylvania,  was  bitterly  opposed 
to  the  extension  of  slavery  in  this  country,  and  died  at  Bellefield,  Pitts- 
burgh, March  3,  1863. 


12  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

with  an  introduction  and  explanatory  notes  written  by 
himself;  thus  preserving,  in  print,  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  and  romantic  of  the  many  tales  which  centre 
in  old  Fort  Du  Quesne. 

It  requires  no  slight  skill  to  train  the  tender  vines  of 
love  and  romance  over  some  long  deserted  structure  of 
the  past,  in  such  a  way  as  to  conceal  its  imperfections, 
hide  the  breaches  in  its  walls,  cover  the  dilapidated  in- 
terior and  thus  assist  the  imagination  of  each  beholder 
to  form  an  individual  conception  of  what  must  have 
been  its  condition  and  surroundings  in  days  of  old. 
But  the  architect,  who  by  diligent  research  recovers, 
piece  by  piece,  the  original  plans,  reconstructs  the 
whole  and  re-establishes  the  former  environment,  has 
talents  of  the  first  order.  It  is  this  last  which  Sir  Gil- 
bert Parker  has  done  for  us  in  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty. 
He  has  reconstructed  and  rehabilitated  Old  Quebec, 
resurrected  the  ancient  inhabitants,  restored  former 
conditions  and  has  done  it  all  with  such  fidelity  to  fact 
that  his  work  can  hardly  be  classed  as  fiction. 

What  may  savor  of  criticism,  in  the  comparison 
which  follows,  is  bom  of  no  censorious  or  ill-natured 
desire  to  injure,  wound  or  be  hypercritical,  but  rather 
of  that  spirit  of  fairplay  which  would  give  credit  where 
credit  is  due.  "Shakespeare  may  often  be  tracked  in 
the  snows  of  Terence,"  but  it  is  not  derogatory  to 
Shakespeare  to  point  out  those  tracks.  Leigh  Hunt 
says:  "Milton  borrowed  other  poets'  thoughts,  but  he 
did  not  borrow  as  gypsies  borrow  children,  spoiling 
their  features  that  they  may  not  be  recognized.  No. 
He  returned  them  improved.  Had  he  borrowed  your 
coat,  he  would  have  returned  it  with  a  new  nap  upon 
it." 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  13 

The  gifted  author  of  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty  has  not 
spoiled  the  story  of  Major  Robert  Stobo.  He  has  bor- 
rowed the  real  hero's  coat  for  his  fictitious  character, 
Captain  Robert  Moray,  to  masquerade  in,  and  has  at 
the  same  time  put  "a  new  nap  upon  it."  But  how 
graceful  and  fair  it  would  have  been,  if  the  author  of 
this  admirable  story,  in  his  "Prefatory  Note,"  along 
with  the  kind  acknowledgments  made  to  his  Canadian 
friends,  had  mentioned  Mr.  Craig's  little  book  and  the 
British  Museum  Manuscript. 

Attention  is  now  directed  to  certain  passages  where 
there  is  a  striking  agreement  between  Sir  Gilbert 
Parker's  Seats  of  the  Mighty,  (D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  New 
York,  1905),  and  Mr.  Neville  B.  Craig's  Memoirs  of 
Major  Robert  Stobo,  (John  S.  Davison,  Pittsburg,  1854). 

It  will  not  be  surprising,  if  an  examination  of  these 
extracts  brings  to  mind  the  language  of  Antonio  to  Se- 
bastian in  Shakespeare's  Twelfth  Night,  and  the  reader 
is  tempted  to  exclaim, 

"An  apple,  cleft  in  twain,  is  not  more  twin, 
Than  these  two  creatures." 


Some    of    the    More    Important 
Points  of  Agreement 

BETWEEN 

"The  Memoirs  of  Major  Robert  Stobo" 

AND 

"The  Seats  of  The  Mighty" 


16  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

The  Parentage  of  Stobo. 
(Page  13.) 

"The  little  hero  of  the  following  memoirs,  whose 
dauntless  courage,  constant  zeal,  and  still  greater  suf- 
ferings, well  deserve  the  attention  of  every  lover  of  his 
country,  was  born  at  Glascow  Anno,  1727.  His  father, 
William  Stobo,  was  a  merchant  and  citizen  of  that 
place,  ....  his  mother  was  the  daughter  of 
James  Mitchell,  of  Balmore,  near  Glascow,  .... 
commonly  distinguished  by  the  appelation  of  the  gen- 
tleman of  Balmore,  which  courtesy  he  probably  enjoyed 
as  being  nearly  related,  by  his  mother,  to  the  noble  and 
ancient  family  of  Montrose. 

"Robert  Stobo  was  the  only  son  of  his  father  that 
lived  past  infancy,  and  consequently  the  great  darling 
of  his  parents,  and  withal,  so  prodigiously  delicate  in 
his  constitution,  that  when  a  boy,  he  was  nursed  two 
spring  seasons  on  breast  milk." 


Stobo 's  Early  Education. 
(Page  14.) 

"Being  at  length  able  to  go  to  school,  his  infant  edu- 
cation was  attended  to  with  great  care,  and  he  was 
early  in  the  Latin  School  of  that  place;  here,  as  he  had 
gathered  a  little  strength  to  his  natural  activity  of 
body  and  mind,  he  soon  betrayed  a  turn  for  arms,  and 
constantly  employed  his  play  hours  in  drum-beating, 
mustering,   and  exercising  his  comrades  with   great 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  17 

THE  SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

The  Parentage  of  Moray. 
(Pages  59-65.) 

"I  would  have  you  know  of  what  I  am  and  whence 

I  came These  words  came  crooning  over 

the  grass  of  that  little  garden  at  Balmore  which  was 
my  mother's  home.  There  I  was  bom  one  day  in  June, 
though  I  was  reared  in  the  busy  streets  of  Glascow, 
where  my  father  was  a  prosperous  merchant  and  fa- 
mous for  his  parts  and  honesty. 

"I  see  myself,  a  little  child  of  no  great  strength,  for 
I  was,  indeed,  the  only  one  of  my  family  who  lived  past 
infancy,  and  my  mother  feared  she  could  never  bring 
me  up.  She,  too,  is  in  that  picture,  tall,  delicate,  kind 
yet  firm  of  face,  but  with  a  strong  brow,  under  which 
shone  grave  gray  eyes,  and  a  manner  so  distinguished 
that  none  might  dispute  her  kinship  to  the  renowned 
Montrose There  was  one  other  in  that  pic- 
ture, ....  my  grandfather,  John  Mitchell,  the 
Gentleman  of  Balmore,  as  he  was  called,  out  of  regard 
for  his  ancestry  and  rare  merits. ' ' 

Moray's  Early  Education. 
(Page  65.) 

''One  day  they  came  to  the  school  in  High  Street, 
where  I  learned  Latin  and  other  accomplishments,  to- 
gether with  fencing  from  an  excellent  master,  Sergeant 
Dowie  of  the  One  Hundredth  Foot.  They  found  me 
with  my  regiment  at  drill;  for  I  had  got  full  thirty  of 
my  school-fellows  under  amis,  and  spent  all  leisure 
hours  in  mustering,  marching,  and  drum-beating,  and 


18  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

alertness,  and  would  often  discipline  them,  severely, 
too,  though  much  his  superiors  in  strength  of  body,  for 
he  was  still  very  delicate." 

Stobo  Left  an  Orphan. 

(Page  14.) 

"In  the  year  1740,  his  father  died,  and  leaving  him 
under  the  guardianship  of  his  nearest  friends,  he  spent 
a  season  or  two  in  the  University  there,  when  his  mother 
dying  likewise,  his  friends  determined,  with  his  own 
consent,  to  send  him  to  Virginia,  to  serve  in  a  store  of 
some  merchants  of  Glascow,  where  he  performed  his 
engagements  with  approbation;  and  having  begun 
business  for  himself,  he  returned  to  Glascow,  Anno 
1747 ;  in  order  to  commence  merchant  with  better  hopes 
of  success,  he  converted  some  houses  he  had  into 
money,  and  laid  out  all  his  small  fortune  in  merchan- 
dize, and  went  over  with  a  resolution  to  settle  at  least 
some  years  in  Virginia." 


Stobo  a  Hostage  to  the  French. 

(Pages  15-18.) 

".  .  .  .  in  that  year  the  French  began  to  make 
very  bare-faced  encroachments  on  the  frontiers  of  Vir- 
ginia, in  so  much  that  the  Governor,  Mr.  Dinwiddie, 
found  himself  obliged  to  oppose  them,  ....  the 
occasion  was  very  opportune,  and  too  well  suited  to  Mr. 
Stobo 's  disposition  to  let  it  pass;  he  offered  his  ser- 


S0A1K  111  DDK  X   SUUKCES  OF  FICTION  19 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

practicing  all  manner  of  discipline  and  evolution  which 
I  had  been  taught  by  my  grandfather  and  Sergeant 
Dowie." 

Moray  Left  an  Orphan. 
(Pages  66-69.) 

"About  this  time  my  father  died— that  is  when  I  was 
fourteen  years  old.  Sir  John  became  one  of  the  execu- 
tors with  my  mother,  and  at  my  wish,  a  year  after- 
wards, I  was  sent  to  the  University,  ....  "We 
threshed  matters  back  and  forth,  and  presently  it  was 
thought  I  should  sail  to  Virginia  to  take  over  my  es- 
tate ....  and  go  I  did,  with  a  commission  from 
some  merchants  of  Glascow,  to  give  my  visit  to  the 

colony  more  weight I  got  back  to  Glascow 

only  in  time— but  how  glad  I  was  of  that!— to  hear  her 
last  words.  When  my  mother  was  gone  I  turned  to- 
wards Virginia  with  longing,  ....  So  there  was 
a  winding  up  of  the  estate,  ....  and  I  set  forth 
to  Virginia  with  a  goodly  sum  of  money  and  a  shipload 
of  merchandise,     .     .     .     . " 

Moray  a  Hostage  to  the  French. 
(Pages  69-70.) 

"Those  were  hearty  days,  wherein  I  made  little 
money,  but  had  much  pleasure  ....  with  my 
young  friend,  Mr.  Washington,  laying  the  foundation 
for  a  Virginian  army,  by  drill  and  yearly  duty  in  camp, 
with  occasional  excursions  against  the  Indians.  I  saw 
very  well  what  the  end  of  our  troubles  with  the  French 


20  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

vice  to  the  province  in  this  dangerous  emergency. 
.  .  .  .  he  was  appointed  the  oldest  captain  of  this 
regiment:  ....  A  part  of  the  regiment,  in  June, 
had  advanced  to  the  Great  Meadows,  not  far  from  the 
Appalachian  Mountains,  with  Major  Washington  at 
their  head;  and  on  the  3rd  of  July,  in  the  morning, 
were  advised  of  a  large  body  of  French  Canadians  and 
barbarians  being  close  upon  them;  ....  Captain 
Stobo  was  pitched  upon  for  engineer,  ....  he 
planned  and  executed  such  entrenchments,  which,  by 
the  by,  were  so  bravely  defended,  that  the  French  could 
not  force  them  that  night,  ....  Next  day  Mon- 
sieur, considering  it  might  cost  them  dear  to  force  such 
brave  fellows,  offered  them  terms  of  capitulation, 
.  .  .  .  on  the  part  of  Britain,  Captain  Eobert  Stobo 
and    Van    Braam    were    delivered    up    as    hostages, 


Stobo  at  Fort  Du  Quesne. 
(Pages  19-21.) 

"In  the  meantime  he  was  sent  to  Fort  du  Quesne, 
where  he  was  treated  as  became  his  station,  with  all 
the  complaisant   double  entendre  so   familiar  to  the 

French At  first  he  was  at  a  great  loss  from 

his  not  knowing  the  French  tongue,  to  acquire  which 
was  his  first  study,  in  which  pursuit  he  was  greatly  as- 
sisted by  the  ladies." 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  21 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

would  be,  and  I  waited  for  the  time  when  I  should  put 
to  keen  use  the  sword  Sir  John  Godric  had  given  me, 
.  .  .  .  Trouble  came  between  Canada  and  Vir- 
ginia. Major  "Washington,  one  Captain  Mackayo,  and 
myself  marched  out  to  the  Great  Meadows,  where  at 
Fort  Necessity  we  surrendered,  after  hard  fighting,  to  a 
force  three  times  our  number.  I,  with  one  Captain  Van 
Braain,  became  a  hostage." 


Moray  at  Fort  Du  Quesne. 
(Page  70.) 

"And  so,  sorrowfully  bidding  my  friends  good-by, 
away  we  went  upon  the  sorry  trail  of  captivity,  arriv- 
ing in  due  time  at  Fort  Du  Quesne,  at  the  junction  of 
the  Ohio  and  the  Monongahela,  where  I  was  courteously 
treated.  There  I  bettered  my  French  and  made  the 
acquaintance  of  some  ladies  from  Quebec  city,  who  took 
pains  to  help  me  with  their  language." 


ifij  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

Stobo  Sends  Plans  of  Fort  Du  Quesne  to  Virginia. 
(Pages  19-20.) 

"Here  he  had  not  been  long  before  he  was  heartily 
convinced  of  the  faithless  regard  paid  by  that  nation  to 
any  treaty,  by  their  manifest  violation  of  these  articles 
for  which  he  was  detained,  and  forthwith  formed  a  res- 
olution of  being  serviceable  to  his  country,  even  at  the 
expense  of  being  a  Frenchman;  satisfied  that  he  had 
not  sought  the  opportunity  to  violate  his  parole,  but 
deemed  himself  entirely  absolved  from  all  obligations 
of  honor  on  that  point,  he  falls  about  forming  a  plan  of 
Fort  du  Quesne,  with  all  its  approaches;  meditated  a 
scheme  for  the  reduction  of  the  place,  committed  both 
to  paper,  and  was  so  regardless  of  himself  as  to  sign  it 
with  his  own  name,  and  at  a  great  expense  and  much 
hazard  conveyed  it,  by  means  of  an  Indian,  to  the  com- 
manding officer  at  Wills  Creek." 

Stobo 's  Plans  Captured  by  the  French. 
(Pag-es   23-24.) 

"As  soon  as  General  Braddock  landed  in  North 
America,  in  1755,  the  commanding  officer  at  the  Creek 
delivered  to  him  the  Major's  letters  and  plan,  which 
that  unfortunate  General  kept  till  he  fell,  when  he  was 
surprised  and  attacked  by  the  Indians  on  his  march 
through  the  woods;  almost  all  his  baggage  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  with  his  papers,  and  these  among 
the  rest ;  unlucky  contingent  attending  such  a  great  dis- 
aster, and  oh!  unthinking  Major  indeed,  signed  with 
his  own  name.. 

"Upon  this  discovery,  he  was  committed  close  pris- 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  23 

THE   SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY 

Moray  Sends  Plans  of  Fort  Du  Quesne  to  Virginia. 
(Page   75.) 

"When  I  found  that  they  were  determined  and  had 
ever  determined  to  violate  their  articles,  that  they 
never  intended  to  set  me  free,  I  felt  absolved  from  my 
duty  as  an  officer  on  parole,  and  I  therefore  secretly 
sent  to  Mr.  Washington  in  Virginia  a  plan  of  Fort  Du 
Quesne  and  one  of  Quebec.  I  knew  I  was  risking  my 
life  by  so  doing,  but  that  did  not  deter  me." 


Moray's  Plans  Captured  by  the  French. 
(Page  76.) 

"My  plans  and  letters  were  given  by  Mr.  Washing- 
ton to  General  Braddock,  and  the  sequel  you  know: 
they  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  my  enemies,  copies 
have  gone  to  France,  and  I  am  to  be  tried  for  my  life. ' ' 


24  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

oner  at  Quebec,  and  hardly  used;  these  credentials 
against  him  were  remitted  to  Paris  by  the  very  first 
opportunity,  and  returned  next  year  with  a  commis- 
sion for  the  Governor  of  Canada  to  try  the  prisoner  for 
his  life." 

Stobo  Condemned  to  Death. 
(Page  25.) 

''Hence,  on  the  28th  of  November,  was  our  hero 
brought,  with  unrelenting  heart,  to  the  Canadian  bar 
of  martial  justice,  where  Monsieur  Vaudreuil,  the  Gov- 
ernor, sat  President ;  the  Court  was  set,  the  prisoner  ar- 
raigned for  violating  the  known  laws  of  nations,  for 
breach  of  faith,  and  treasonable  practices  against  the 
government  that  sheltered  him.  Tried  by  his  peers, 
well  might  they  have  spared  this  guilty  brother,  for 
when  ever  did  they  preserve  their  faith  .  .  .  .all 
this,  and  more,  in  vain  he  pleaded,  no  counsel  for  the 
pannel,  the  vote  was  put,  and  hang  he  must  by  general 
consent.  The  day  was  fixed,  and  back  he's  hurried  to 
his  dark  abode,  much  worse  than  death,  there  to  medi- 
tate on  his  last  graceful  exit,  and  con  his  penitentials 
o  'er. ' ' 


Stobo  Prepares  to  Escape. 

(Pages   27-28.) 

"At  length  being  wearied  with  conjecture  and  weigh- 
ing consequences,  he  fixed  upon  the  window  for  his 
door,  and  if  the  lucky  project  hit,  and  he  could  but 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  25 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 


Moray  Condemned  to  Death. 
(Pages  85-101.) 

"  'Who  sits  behind  the  drum!'  I  questioned.  'The 
Marquis  de  Vaudreuil,'  he  replied,  ....  It  was 
late  evening  before  the  trial  came  to  a  close.  The  one 
point  to  be  established  was  that  the  letters  taken  from 
General  Braddock  were  mine,  and  that  I  had  made  the 

plans  while  a  hostage I  pleaded  only  that 

they  had  not  kept  our  Articles  of  War  signed  at  Fort 
Necessity,  which  provided  that  I  should  be  free  within 
two  months  and  a  half— that  is,  when  prisoners  in  our 
hands  should  be  delivered  up  to  them,  as  they  were. 
They  had  broken  their  bond,  though  we  had  fulfilled 
ours,  and  I  held  myself  justified  in  doing  what  I  had 

done  for  our  cause  and  for  my  own  life 

Presently  out  of  the  stillness  the  Governor's  voice  was 
heard  condemning  me  to  death  by  hanging,  thirty  days 
hence  at  sunrise." 

Moray  Prepares  to  Escape. 
(Pages  203-204.) 

"The  real  point  of  danger  was  the  window.  There 
lay  my  way.  It  was  stoutly  barred  with  iron  up  and 
down,  and  the  bars  were  set  in  the  solid  limestone. 


20  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OP   STOBO 

once  gain  the  woods,  a  six  weeks'  painful  journey 
would  bring  him  to  an  English  settlement.  The  scheme 
was  laid,  the  window  was  the  place,  and  it  was  firmly 
barred  with  iron,  right  up  and  down,  but  not  across; 
from  iron  to  iron  at  bottom,  there  must  be  a  groove  cut 
in  the  hard  stone,  deep  and  wide  enough  to  let  one  stan- 
chion to  the  other  slide,  which  yielded  him  an  easy  pas- 
sage; a  sorry  knife,  round  at  the  point,  with  which  he 
cut  his  victuals,  was  all  his  tools ;  with  this  his  method 
was  to  rub  the  stone,  for  cut  it  would  not,  and  he  must 

not  strike  for  fear  of  making  a  noise And 

now  to  work  by  turns,  and  now  to  cater  for  the  knap- 
sack ;  long  time  was  spent  in  this  amusement,  great  cau- 
tion, too,  was  used  for  secrecy,  for  his  room  door  was 
always  open  to  the  jailor,  who  might  surprise  him  at 
his  work;  the  growing  groove  was  to  be  filled,  with  con- 
stant care,  at  leaving  off  his  labor,  by  chewing  bread  on 
purpose,  ready,  which,  stuffing  in  the  hole,  he  covered 
with  the  sand  which  he  had  rubbed,  or  ashes  of  his  pipe, 
of  the  same  colour;     .     .     .     ." 

Stobo  Nearly  Detected. 

(Pages  28-29.) 

".  .  .  .  at  this  lazy  hewing  method  he  often 
grew  mad  and  tired,  and  would  curse  his  perverse  fate, 
which  the  poor  stone  was  sure  to  feel  with  such  a  rub, 
the  grating  noise  of  which  would  sometimes  rouse  the 
jailor,  who  lived  immediately  below  him,  and  he'd  come 
tumbling  up ;  the  hole  was  filled  and  covered  up  so  nice- 
ly, the  Major  setting  reading  on  a  book,  or  walking, 
smoked  his  pipe,  as  fancy  led.    The  jailor  stalked  about 


SOAIK    IIIDDKX   SOFKCKS  OF   FICTION  27 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

Soon  after  I  entered  this  prison  I  saw  that  I  must  cut 
a  groove  in  the  stone  from  stanchion  to  stanchion,  and 
then,  by  drawing  one  to  the  other,  make  an  opening 
large  enough  to  let  my  body  through.  For  tools  I  had 
only  a  miserable  knife  with  which  I  cut  my  victuals, 
and  the  smaller  but  stouter  one  which  Gabord  had  not 
taken  from  me.  There  could  be  no  pounding,  no  chisel- 
ling, but  only  rubbing  of  the  hard  stone.  So  hour  after 
hour  I  rubbed  away,  in  constant  danger  of  discovery 
however.  My  jailor  had  a  trick  of  sudden  entrance 
which  would  have  been  grotesque  had  it  not  been  so 
serious  to  me.  To  provide  against  the  flurried  inquisi- 
tion of  his  eye  I  kept  near  me  bread  well  chewed,  with 
which  I  filled  the  hole,  covering  it  with  the  sand  I  had 
rubbed  or  the  ashes  of  my  pipe." 


Moray  Nearly  Detected. 
(Page  204.) 

"Once  or  twice,  however,  being  impatient,  I 
scratched  the  stone  with  some  asperity  and  noise,  and 
was  rewarded  by  hearing  my  fellow  stumbling  in  the 
hall ;  ....  I  would  have  laughed  if  I  had  dared, 
but  I  yawned  over  the  book  I  had  hastily  snatched  up, 

and  puffed  great  whiffs  from  my  pipe At 

another  time  I  was  foolishly  harsh  with  my  tools ;  but  I 
knew  now  the  time  required  by  him  to  come  upstairs, 


28  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

the  room,  with  curious  eye,  and  now  looked  through 
the  bars,  and  then  would  ask  his  prisoner  if  he  had  per- 
ceived such  gentlemen  pass  by  his  window,  nor  would 
he  say  that  he  suspected  foul  designs,  but  narrowly 
surveyed  each  corner.  This  often  was  the  trial  of  his 
vigilance. ' ' 


Stobo's  Preparations  Complete. 
(Pages  28-29.) 

"At  length  the  work  was  done,  the  bar  had  room  to 
play,  but  being  fast  at  the  top,  and  stout  withal,  it  was 
too  strong  for  him  to  bend;  to  help  out  this  defect,  a 
file  was  wanting,  which  he  soon  supplied  by  tying  his 
handkerchief  round  two  bars,  and  into  this  he  put  a 
stick,  with  which  he  screwed  up  hard  the  handkerchief, 
which  brought  the  bars  together  in  a  trice,  and  there 
was  room  enough.  This  engine  proved,  all  was  in  order 
filled,  as  naught  had  been  achieved  ....  thus 
all  was  ripe  for  execution,  but  the  time  was  wanted, 
and  now  it  comes. ' ' 

Stobo  Escapes. 

(Page  29.) 

"The  30th  of  April  it  had  hailed,  rained,  blowed,  and 
thundered  with  such  violence  as  made  it  terrible,  and 
night  came  on,  repenting  nothing  of  the  day;  the  sen- 
tries placed  without,  naught  suspected,  and  thinking 


SOME  BIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  29 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

and  I  swiftly  filled  the  groove  with  bread,  strewed 
ashes  and  sand  over  it,  rubbed  all  smooth,  and  was 
plunged  in  my  copy  of  Montaigne  when  he  entered. 
This  time  he  went  straight  to  the  window,  looked  at  it, 
tried  the  stanchions,  and  then,  with  an  amused  attempt 
at  being  cunning  and  hiding  his  own  vigilance,  he 
asked  me,  with  laborious  hypocrisy,  if  I  had  seen  Cap- 
tain Lancy  pass  the  window.  And  so  for  weeks  and 
weeks  we  played  hide-and-seek  with  each  other. ' ' 

Moray's  Preparations  Complete. 
(Pages  201-205.) 

"At  last  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  sit  and  wait,  for  the 
groove  was  cut,  the  bar  had  room  to  play,  I  could  not 
bend  it,  for  it  was  fast  at  the  top;  but  when  my  hour 
of  adventure  was  come,  I  would  tie  a  handkerchief 
around  the  two  bars  and  twist  it  with  the  piece  of 
hickory  used  for  stirring  the  fire.  Here  was  my  engine 
of  escape,  and  I  waited  till  April  should  wind  to  its 
close,  when  I  should,  in  the  softer  weather,  try  my  for- 
tune outside  these  walls." 


Moray  Escapes. 

(Page  205.) 

"So  time  went  on  until  one  eventful  day,  even  the 
30th  of  April  of  that  year  1758.  It  was  raining  hard 
and  blowing  when  I  waked,  and  it  ceased  not  all  the 
day,  coming  to  a  hailstorm  towards  night.    I  felt  sure 


30  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

all  was  quiet  in  such  a  dreadful  tempest,  sought  the 
shelter  of  the  house;  far  otherwise  it  fared  above,  for 
he  was  looking  for  the  opportunity,  and  found  their 
posts  deserted;  the  midnight  hour  drew  nigh,  the 
knapsack  tied  and  slung,  the  screw  at  work,  and  thus 
the  window's  opened,  and  down  he  plumps,  a  goodly 
height,  into  the  mire  below " 


Stobo  Recaptured. 

(Pages  29-31.) 

"Certain  of  his  way,  he  stood  not  to  consider,  but 
straight  he  flew,  well  soaked  in  rain,  and  beaten  by  the 
storm;  and  far  above  the  town  he  reached  a  farmer's, 
and  there  took  up  his  quarters  for  the  approaching  day 
into  an  out  house,  on  a  hay  loft,  where  the  kind  hen  had 

left  for  him  her  eggs  to  suck  for  drink 

About  the  midnight  hour  he  steals  from  out  his  lurking 
place,  with  silent  step  and  watchful  eye,  till  by  degrees 
he  leaves  the  farmer's  house  behind,  and  straight  he 
fares  for  Charles'  River;  when  he  came  there,  it  was 
high  water;  no  time  was  left  to  hesitate,  and  through 
he  waded  up  to  his  chin,  his  knapsack  on  his  head. 
.  .  .  .  But  next  unlucky  night,  when  he  had  got 
below  the  falls  of  Montmorenci,  ....  he  spied 
some  gentlemen  come  riding  up,  and  they  saw  him ;  sur- 
prised, he  started  back  to  cover,  they  pushed  on  with 
speed,  and  in  they  rushed  among  the  bushes;  theirs  was 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION  31 

THE   SEATS  OF   THE  MIGHTY 

that  my  guards  without  would  relax  their  vigilauce. 
In  the  evening  I  listened,  and  heard  no  voices  nor  any 
sound  of  feet,  only  the  pelting  rain  and  the  whistling 
wind.  Yet  I  did  not  stir  till  midnight.  Then  I  slung 
the  knapsack  in  front  of  me,  so  that  I  could  force  it 
through  the  window  first,  and  tying  my  handkerchief 
round  the  iron  bars,  I  screwed  it  up  with  my  stick. 
Presently  the  bars  came  together,  and  my  way  was 
open.  I  got  my  body  through  by  dint  of  squeezing,  and 
let  myself  go  plump  into  the  mire  below. ' ' 

Moray  Recaptured. 
(Pages  208-212.) 

"With  all  my  might  I  hurried,  and  was  soon  outside 
the  town,  and  coming  fast  to  the  farmhouse  about  two 

miles  beyond The  door  was  not  locked, 

and  I  passed  in.  There  was  a  loft  nearly  full  of  hay, 
and  I  crawled  up  and  dug  a  hole  far  down  against  the 
side  of  the  building,  and  climbed  in,  bringing  with  me 
for  drink  a  nest  of  hen's  eggs  which  I  found  in  the  cor- 
ner. .  .  .  Near  midnight  of  the  second  day  I  came 
out  secretly  from  my  lurking-place,  and  faced  straight 
for  the  St.  Charles  Eiver.  Finding  it  at  high  water,  I 
plunged  in,  with  my  knapsack  and  cloak  on  my  head, 
and  made  my  way  across,  reaching  the  opposite  shore 

safely Late  in  the  evening  of  this   day 

.     .     .     .    I  edged  cautiously  down  past  Beauport  and 

on  to  the  Montmorenci  Falls I  saw  three 

horsemen,  who  instantly  spurred  towards  me.  I  sprang 
through  the  underbrush     .     .     .     .     'It  is  no  use,  donr 


32  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

the  prize,  the  prisoner  was  seized,  and  dragged,  reluct- 
ant  to  Quebec." 

Love  Finds  a  Way. 

(Pages  32-34.) 

' '  There  dwelt,  by  lucky  fate,  in  this  strong  capital,  a 
lady  fair,  of  chaste  renown,  of  manners  sweet,  and  gen- 
tle soul;  long  had  her  heart  confessed  for  this  poor  pris- 
oner, a  flame  best  suited  with  the  spirit  of  the  times  to 
smother,  whose  tender  breast  felt  double  smart  at  this 
his  deep  affliction,  which  threatened  certain  death;  her 
kindred  was  confessed,  and  influence,  too,  well  known 
with  Vaudreuil,  this  was  her  time,  or  death  must  soon 
have  finished  all  his  sorrow;  and,  strange  speech  of  love, 
though  reasonable,  thus  she  accosts  the  proud  Cana- 
dian Vice  Roy:  'Mighty  cousin,  our  good  Canadian 
Court,  most  sure  were  right  when  they  condemned  this 
haughty  English  prisoner  to  lose  his  forfeit  life  to  our 
grand  Monarch  ....  and  well  and  truly 
.  .  .  .  hast  thou  tried  the  nature  of  his  crime,  and 
for  thy  justice  in  his  sentence,  no  doubt  thy  sovereign 
will  give  thee  thanks,  ....  But  should  this 
faithless  monster  die  in  prison,  thou  would 'st  be  the 
loser,  and  he'd  elude  the  death  he  well  deserves.  Let 
me  advise,  thee,  therefore,  as  thy  faithful  cousin,  to 
change  the  prison  to  some  freer  air.  Thou  knowest 
there  lives  upon  the  ramparts  a  trusty  servant,  to  his 
King  and  thee,  whose  faith's  been  often  tried;  a  centi- 
nel  stands  always  by  his  door,  if  there  were  need  of 
force,  as  I  believe  there's  none,  for  as  I  am  told,  he 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION  33 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY 

Captain,'  said  Doltaire.  'Yield  up  your  weapon." 
.  .  .  .  In  another  half  hour  of  bitter  journeying  I 
found  myself  in  my  dungeon." 

Love  Finds  a  Way. 
(Pages  1233-235.) 

"I  was  curious  to  know  how  it  chanced  I  was  set 
free  of  my  dungeon,  and  I  had  the  story  from  Alixe's 
lips;  ....  'I  went  to  the  Governor,  and,  with 
show  of  interest  in  many  things  pertaining  to  the  gov- 
ernment, ....  came  to  the  question  of  the  Eng- 
lish prisoner.  I  told  him  it  was  I  that  prevented  the 
disgrace  to  his  good  government  by  sending  to  General 
Montcalm  to  ask  for  your  protection.  He  was  im- 
pressed, and  opened  out  his  vain  heart  about  the  state 

in  divers  ways When  he  was  in  his  most 

pliable  mood,  I  grew  serious  and  told  him  there  was  a 
danger  which  perhaps  he  did  not  see.  Here  was  his 
English  prisoner,  who,  they  said  abroad  in  town,  was 
dying.  There  was  no  doubt  that  the  King  would  ap- 
prove the  sentence  of  death,  and  if  it  were  duly  and 
with  some  display  enforced,  it  would  but  add  to  the 
Governor's  reputation  in  France.  But  should  the  pris- 
oner die  in  captivity,  or  should  he  go  an  invalid  to  the 
scaffold,  there  would  only  be  pity  excited  in  the  world 
for  him.  For  his  own  honour,  it  were  better  the  Gover- 
nor should  hang  a  robust  prisoner,  who  in  full  blood 
should  expiate  his  sins  upon  the  scaffold.  The  advice 
went  down  like  wine;  and  when  he  knew  not  what  to 
do,  I  urged  your  being  brought  here,  put  under  guard, 
and  fed  and  nourished  for  vour  end.    And  so  it  was." 


34  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

only  lives,  nor  would  he,  so  I  think  if  he  was  able,  be 
fool  enough  to  attempt  again  to  get  away,  as  he  has 
twice  already  tried  his  vanity  and  thy  known  vigilance, 
and  yet  the  wretch  may  live  to  grace  thee  with  his 
swing,—  I  but  advise.'  " 

Stobo  on  the  Ramparts. 
(Pages  34-36.) 

"Her  virgin  innocence  and  unsuspected  words  pre- 
vailed, and  the  advice  went  down;  he  thanking  her  for 
her  kind  affection  to  his  honor,  and  forthwith  placed 
the  prisoner  on  "the  ramparts some  Eng- 
lish officers,  prisoners  at  Quebec,  had  leave  to  visit  him. 
Among  the  rest  a  Lieutenant  of  Roger's  Ranging  Regi- 
ment, whose  name  was  Stevenson;  there  too  remained 
amongst  the  crowd  of  prisoners  brought  in,  one  Clark, 
a  Scotchman,  both  at  Leith,  a  ship  carpenter  by  trade ; 
with  him,  his  wife  he  had,  and  two  small  children; 
.  .  .  .  his  readiness  to  serve  had  gained  him  con- 
fidence, and  he  was  talked  of  to  go  down  the  river  with 
a  sloop  to  bring  the  crew  who  had  escaped  the  Eagle's 

wreck  at  Belle  Isle  Straights He  missed 

his  aim.  Another  went,  and  sore  he  moaned  his  fair, 
lost  opportunity.  Stevenson  communicated  to  the  Ma- 
jor this  abortive  scheme,  which  soon  begat  another 
more  successful,  and  sets  our  hero  free  for  action. 
.  .  .  .  the  river  was  their  route,  and  Clark  was 
necessarily  of  the  party,  ....  The  Major's 
pocket  was  the  exchequer  whence  all  their  payments 
issued,  and  only  Stevenson  knew  till  the  last  scene,  he 
was  to  head  their  forces;  Clark's  wife  and  children, 


SOME   BIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION  35 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 


Moray  on  the  Ramparts. 
(Pages  239-242.) 

''Presently  there  came  word  from  the  Governor  that 
I  might  walk  upon  the  ramparts,     ....     I  was  al- 
lowed to  speak  to  Lieutenant  Stevens,     ....     For 
months  he  had  been  maturing  plans  for  escape.    There 
was  one  Clark,  a  ship-carpenter  (of  whom  I  have  be- 
fore written),  and  two  other  bold  spirits,  who  were  sick 
of  captivity,  and  it  was  intended  to  fare  forth  one  night 
and  make  a  run  for  freedom.    Clark  had  a  notable  plan. 
A  wreck  of  several  transports  had  occurred  at  Belle 
Isle,  and  it  was  intended  by  the  authorities  to  send  him 
down  the  river  with  a  sloop  to  bring  back  the  crew,  and 
break  up  the  wreck.     It  was  his  purpose  to  arm  his 
sloop  with  Mr.  Stevens  and  some  English  prisoners  the 
night  before  she  was  to  sail,  and  steal  away  with  her 
down  the  river.     But  whether  or  not  the  authorities 
suspected  him,  the  command  was  at  last  given  to  an- 
other.    It  was  proposed,  however,  to  get  away  on  a 
dark  night  to  some  point  on  the  river,  where  a  boat 
should  be  stationed     ....    I  managed  to  convey 
to  Mr.  Stevens  a  good  sum  of  money,  and  begged  him 
to  meet  me  every  day  upon  the  ramparts,  until  1  also 
should  see  my  way  to  making  a   dart  for  freedom. 
.     .     .     .     The  following  morning  I  met  Mr.  Stevens 


36  SOME   HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

and  two  provincials,  private  men,  composed  the  whole 
battalion.  The  30th  again  of  April  was  now  appointed 
Tor  the  execution  of  their  project;  ....  With 
great  precaution  he  had  taken  his  leave  of  Stevenson 
the  day  before,  with  strict  injunctions  not  to  fail  the 
time  and  place  appointed,     .     .     .     ." 

Stobo  Escapes  Again. 
(Pages  37-39.) 

{i  Before  the  hour  of  ten,  he  steals  up  gently  from  the 
bed,  and  softly  ope's  the  door,  where  he  but  stood  to 
leam  his  next  advance,  ....  As  soon  as  he  had 
cleared  the  town,  he  mends  his  pace,  and  onward  fares 
to  find  the  mill,  which  presently  is  gained,  to  the  great 
terror  of  his  little  party,  who  ....  yet  knew 
nothing  of  his  coming,  only  Stevenson;  nor  knew  they 
what  to  think,  and  straight  imagined  they  were  all  dis- 
covered, but  soon  were  reconciled  when  they  found  Ma- 
jor Stobo  of  their  party,  and  bid  him  hearty  welcome. 
.  .  .  .  a  large  canoe  was  found,  made  of  the  bark 
of  no  small  birchen  tree,  and  well  finished ;  she  seemed 
to  be  the  size  to  cany  them,  but  naught  to  spare;  a 
gladsome  sight.  Then  up  she's  easily  lifted  'twixt  their 
hands,  and  carried  for  the  launch;  and  now  she  on  the 
water  swims,  a  trusty  vessel,  ....  The  tide  was 
turned,  and  with  swift  current  downward  rolled  the 
stream,  all  favorable;  ....  The  town  already 
stands  astern;  Point  Levi  seems  to  meet  them;  next  ad- 
vances Orleans  Isle,  and  by  the  dawn  of  May  the  1st, 
they'd  left  Quebec  a  goodly  distance  up  the  river; 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION  37 

THE   SEATS  OF   THE  MIGHTY 

on  the  ramparts.    I  told  him  it  was  my  purpose  to  es- 
cape the  next  night,  it'  possible. " 


Moray  Escapes  Again. 
(Fages  259-263.) 

"At  ten  o'clock  I  was  ready  for  the  venture.  .  .  . 
It  had  been  kept  secret  from  these  people  that  I  was  to 
go  with  them,  ....  but  when  Mr.  Stevens  told 
them  who  I  was  they  were  agreeably  surprised.  I  at 
once  took  command     ....     They  took  my  terms 

like  men,  and  swore  to  stand  by  me We 

came  down  the  steep  passage  in  the  cliff  to  where  our 
craft  lay,  ....  a  birch  canoe,  well  laden  with 
necessaries.  Our  craft  was  none  too  large  for  our 
party,  but  she  must  do;  and  safely  in,  we  pushed  out 
upon  the  current,  which  was  in  our  favour,  for  the 
tide  was  going  out After  the  Isle  of  Or- 
leans was  passed  I  drew  a  breath  of  relief,  and  played 

the  part  of  captain  and  boatswain  merely 

Some  of  the  nights  were  dreary  and  very  cold,  for  it 
was  vet  but  the  beginning  of  May." 


38  SOME   HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

A  Gale  on  the  River. 

(Pages  41-43.) 

".  .  .  .  the  wind  turned  eastwardly,  and  up  the 
river  blowed,  against  the  ebbing  tide;  the  gale  in- 
creased, with  snow  and  sleet;  .  .  .  the  waves 
break  in,  her  decks  are  not  to  stave,  and  now  the  water 
covers  all  her  bottom;  and  filling  fast,  all  hands  that 
paddled  not,  were  set  to  bale.  Their  danger  soon  grew 
imminent,  ....  and  now  she  rises  on  the  lifted 
wave's  proud  summit;  supported  on  the  middle  as  on  a 
high  crowned  ridge,  and  both  her  ends  were  drooping, 
being  deeply  loaded  fore  and  aft;  and  then,  anon,  she's 
in  the  hollow  'twixt  the  waves,  which  raise  her  stem 
and  stern,  the  middle  sinking  low,  and  her  weak  gun- 
wales yielding  outward  from  the  pressure  of  her  ends, 
which  opens  wide  her  waist,  dismal  to  look  at.  Her 
back  must  surely  break,  ....  The  tide  of  ebb 
being  almost  spent,  the  waves  begin  to  fall,  the  wind  to 
shift  a  little  to  the  Northward,  and  the  tempestuous  sea 
soon  to  clear  with  such  a  piercing  cold  as  froze  their 

drenched  clothes  upon  their  backs Worse 

case  was  needless,  a  sorry  plight,  indeed,  for  scarce  a 
man  could  lift  a  leg,  their  frozen  mail-coats  rattled 
with  the  ice,     .     .     .     . " 

Stobo  Encounters  Indians. 

(Pages  44-48.) 

"The  necessary  orders  for  the  day  were  issued,  the 
two  provincials,  marksmen  well  experienced,  now  in 
the  woods  advanced  to  see  what  thev  could  kill  for  din- 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF   FICTION  39 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

A  Gale  on  the  River. 
(Page  264.) 

"We  had  a  constant  favouring  breeze,  but  now  sud- 
denly, though  we  were  running  with  the  tide,  the  wind 
turned  easterly  and  blew  up  the  river  against  the  ebb. 
Soon  it  became  a  gale,  to  which  was  added  snow  and 

sleet,   and  a  rough,   choppy   sea  followed 

The  waves  broke  in  upon  us,  and  presently,  while  half 
of  us  were  paddling  with  laboured  and  desperate 
stroke,  the  other  half  were  baling.  Lifted  on  a  crest, 
our  canoe,  heavily  laden,  dropped  at  both  ends;  and 
again,  sinking  into  the  hollows  between  the  short,  bru- 
tal waves,  her  gunwales  yielded  outward,  and  her  waist 
gaped  in  a  dismal  way.  We  looked  to  see  her  with  a 
broken  back  at  any  moment.  ...  At  last,  the  ebb 
tide  being  almost  spent,  the  waves  began  to  fall,  the 
wind  shifted  a  little  northward,  and  a  piercing  cold  in- 
stantly froze  our  drenched  clothes  on  our  backs.  But 
with  the  current  changed  there  was  a  good  chance  of 
reaching  shore.  As  daylight  came  we  passed  into  a  lit- 
tle sheltered  cove,  and  sank  with  exhaustion  on  the 
shore.  Our  frozen  clothes  rattled  like  tin,  and  we  could 
scarce  lift  a  leg." 

Moray  Encounters  Indians. 

(Pages  265-266.) 

"I  sent  my  two  Provincials  foraging  with  their  guns, 
and  we  who  remained  set  about  to  fix  our  camp  for  the 
day  and  prepare  breakfast.  A  few  minutes  only  passed, 


40  SOME  HIDDEN  SOUUCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

ner.  Short  while  they're  missed  till  they  come  run- 
ning back,  with  rueful  length  of  face,  and  with  a  sigh, 
k  We've  seen  two  Indians,  nor  are  they  far  from  hence;' 
and  nothing  more  could  say  for  want  of  breath. 
.  .  .  .  Then  they  described  the  Indians  at  large, 
both  armed  with  muskets  and  the  implements  of  death, 

and  earned  nothing  else and  now  in  sight 

beyond  a  little  river,  behold  the  Indians  stand,  dread- 
ing naught  of  enemies  in  this-mountainous  desert.  This 
river  must  be  crossed,  and  in  they  wade  full  mid-thigh 
deep;  by  dire  mishap,  one  slipt  his  foot,  and  fell,  his 
clothes  and  musket  wet,  ....  they're  soon 
through,  and  onward  move;  the  Major  in  front,  and 
singing  as  he  went  some  French  cantata;  and  soon  the 
Indians  are  joined;  then  straight  in  French  he  them 
saluted,  and  asks  them  of  their  cheer;  and  being  close 
abreast,  the  fire-lock  of  the  first  he  seized,  and  Steven- 
son soon  had  him  by  the  neck.  With  little  ceremony 
the  rest  the  other  seized,  and  then  he  let  them  know  he 
bore  a  French  commission,  and  clear  instructions  had 
to  search  these  woods  for  English  prisoners  that  had 
escaped  from  Quebec,  ....  they  told  him  they 
were  guardians  of  the  fire;  and  as  a  proof  of  what  they 
said,  they  'd  lead  him  where  it  was,  and  to  their  habita- 
tions  But  now  we're  at  the  wigwam.  And 

here  was  to  be  seen  fine  beaver  skins  and  teal,  and 
maple  sugar,   and  twenty   other  curious   things;   no 

sooner  seen,  but  Clark  says,  d n  my  soul  but  I'll 

have  this;  d n  me,  says  another,  but  this  is  mine; 

and  no  sooner  were  the  Indians  confirmed  in  their  mis- 
take, but  he  whom  Stevenson  held,  gave  such  a  spring 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION  41 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

and  my  hunters  came  running  back  with  rueful  faces  to 
say  they  had  seen  two  Indians  near,  armed  with  mus- 
kets and  knives.  .  .  .  We  came  to  a  little  river, 
beyond  which  we  could  observe  the  Indians  standing 
on  guard.  We  could  only  cross  by  wading,  which  we 
did;  but  one  of  my  Provincials  came  down,  wetting  his 
musket  and  himself  thoroughly.  Reaching  the  shore, 
we  marched  together,  T  singing  the  refrain  of  an  old 
French  song  as  we  went,  so  attracting  the  attention  of 

the   Indians I   signalled   to   the   Indians, 

and,  coming  near,  addressed  them  in  French.  They 
were  deceived,  and  presently,  abreast  of  them,  in  the 
midst  of  apparent  ceremony,  their  firelocks  were  seized, 
and  Mr.  Stevens  and  Clark  had  them  safe.  I  told  them 
we  must  be  satisfied  as  to  who  they  were,  for  English 
prisoners  escaped  from  Quebec  were  abroad,  and  no 
man  could  go  unchallenged.  They  must  at  once  lead 
me  to  their  camp.  So  they  did,  and  at  their  bark  wig- 
wam they  said  they  had  seen  no  Englishmen.  They 
were  guardians  of  the  fire;  ....  While  I  was 
questioning  them,  Clark  rifled  the  wigwam;  and  pres- 
ently, the  excitable  fellow,  finding  some  excellent  stores 
of  skins,  tea,  maple  sugar,  coffee,  and  other  things, 
broke  out  into  English  expletives.  Instantly,  the  Indi- 
ans saw  they  had  been  trapped,  and  he  whom  Mr. 
Stevens  held  made  a  great  spring  from  him,  caught  up 
a  gun,  and  gave  a  wild  yell  which  echoed  far  and  near. 
Mr.  Stevens,  with  great  rapidity,  leveled  his  pistol  and 
shot  him  in  the  heart,  while  I,  in  a  close  struggle  with 
my  captive,  was  glad— for  I  was  not  yet  strong— that 
Clark  finished  my  assailant;  and  so  both  lay  there  dead. 


42  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

as  carried  him  full  four  yards  from  his  grips,  and 
more,  and  sets  up  such  a  dreadful  yell,  so  loud  and 
shrill  withal  as  the  high  sonorous  mountains  echoed 

back  far  round to  prevent  a  repetition  of 

such  alarming  noise,  Stevenson  has  in  charge  to  shoot 
him  instantly,  and  anon  he  falls,  and  soon  his  comrade 
follows  his  example;  ....  Not  far  from  where 
they  lay,  there  stood  a  pool  of  water,  ....  first 
having  carefully  taken  off  their  scalps,  and  then  a 
heavy  stone  is  fastened  to  the  feet  of  each,  in  here 
they're  shoved,  and  down  they  sink,  and  may  be  sink- 
ing yet the  Indians'  poor  faithful  dog,  be- 
fore unnoticed,  now  sits  howling  o'er  the  pool,  with  a 
right  doleful  note;  in  pity  to  the  poor  dumb  beast,  he's 
killed,  and  with  his  master  sleeps." 

Stobo  Discovers  a  Boat. 
(Pages   49-50.) 

"Scarce  had  they  determined,  but  lo!  a  four  oared 
boat  is  spied,  come  rowing  for  the  shore,  and  ne'er  a 
ship  in  view.  'Courage,  my  lads,  I  hope,  by  your  as- 
sistance and  God's  blessing  on  our  arms,  this  prize 
shall  be  our  own,  these  men  our  prisoners,  too,  and  they 
shall  lessen  your  fatigue,  and  row  for  us;'  .  .  .  . 
Now  briskly  on,  with  quicker  strokes,  the  rowers  pulled 
in  for  the  shore,  just  as  the  wearied  traveler,  with  jaded 
pace,  pursues  his  journey  all  the  morning,  and  fit  by 
this  time  through  his  horse  to  sink,  but  with  noon  day 
descries  the  Inn  where  he's  to  bait  and  refresh,  and 
with  the  sight  his  spirits  are  revived;  he  gives  his  horse 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF   FICTION  43 

THE   SEATS  OF   THE  MIGHTY 

two  foes  less  of  our  King.  Not  far  from  where  we  stood 
was  a  pool  of  water,  and  we  sank  the  bodies  there ;  but 
I  did  not  know  until  long  afterwards  that  Clark,  with 
a  barbarous  and  disgusting  spirit,  carried  away  their 
scalps  to  sell  them  in  New  York,  where  they  would 
bring,  as  he  confided  to  one  of  the  Provincials,  twelve 
pounds  each.  Before  we  left,  we  shot  a  poor  howling 
dog  that  mourned  for  his  masters,  and  sank  him  also 
in  the  dark  pool." 


Moray  Discovers  a  Boat. 

(Pages  266-267.) 

"We  had  but  got  back  to  our  camp,  when  looking 
out,  we  saw  a  well-manned  four-oared  boat  making  for 
the  shore.  My  men  were  in  dismay  until  I  told  them 
that,  having  begun  the  game  of  war,  I  would  carry  it 
on  to  the  ripe  end.  This  boat  and  all  therein  should  be 
mine.  Safely  hidden,  we  watched  the  rowers  draw  in 
to  shore  with  brisk  strokes,  ....  They  had  evi- 
dently been  upon  a  long  journey,  and  by  their  toiling 
we  could  see  their  boat  was  deeply  loaded;  but  they 
drove  on,  like  a  horse  that,  at  the  close  of  day,  sees 
ahead  the  inn  where  he  is  to  bait  and  refresh,  and,  rous- 
ing to  the  spur,  comes  cheerily  home.    The  figure  of  a 


44  SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

the  spurs,  reminds  him  with  the  whip,  and  pushes  on 
with  quickened  pace,  till  he  arrives;  and  thus  she  pres- 
ently runs  bump  upon  the  beach." 

The   Chevalier  de  la  Darante. 
(Pages  50-51.) 

"The  signal  given,  a  volley  went  amongst  the  crew, 
and  two  were  slightly  wounded.  Quarters  they  cried 
at  once;  the  Major  and  his  party  rushed  down  from  the 
rocks,  and  stand  upon  the  beach,  and  straight  they're 
ordered  out,  unarmed,  in  number  five;  a  reverend  old 
gentleman,  who  sat  to  steer,  when  he  came  out  with 
graceful  bow  and  great  submission,  desired  to  know 
whose  prisoner  he  was;  to  this  the  Major  answered  in 
French, 'we  are  British  subjects,  ....  have  been 
prisoners  in  Canada,  .  .  .  .  we're  determined  at 
the  utmost  hazard  of  our  lives,  to  get  away;  and  since 
it  has  been  your  fortune  to  fall  into  our  hands,  you're 
now  our  prisoners,  and  your  men  and  shallop  shall  be 
of  service  to  effectuate  our  escape;'  to  which  the  old 
gentleman  replied,  'Monsieur,  I've  been  a  great  way 
down  this  mighty  river,  to  purchase  wheat  at  a  great 
expense  and  toil,  for  all  the  wheat  above  is  carried  to 
Quebec  to  store  the  Magazine,  and  am  returning  home, 
my  shallop  loaded  as  you  see;  I  am  Monsieur  Chev.  la 
Darante;  the  whole  Camaraski  Isles  are  mine,  and  the 
best  gentleman  on  them  does  me  vassalage;  the  best 
Canadian  blood  runs  in  my  veins,  nor  does  the  mighty 
Due  de  Mirepoix  deny  me  of  his  kindred,  and  several 
more  nobility  of  France;  besides,  I  am  old  and  feeble, 
therefore  I  think  such  a  gentleman  as  I  may  be  ex- 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  45 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

reverend  old  man  was  in  the  stern,  and  he  sent  them 
in  to  shore  with  brisk  words.  Bump  came  the  big  shal- 
lop on  the  beach,     .     .     .     ." 

The  Chevalier  de  la  Darante. 
(Pages  267-269.) 

"As  we  fired  I  stepped  out  of  the  thicket,  .... 
The  old  gentleman  stood  up  while  his  men  cried  for 
quarter    ....     It  was  the  Chevalier  de  la  Darante. 

.     .     .     .    He  started,  then  recognized  me 

1  What  would  you  do  with  me ! ' 

' '  '  Detain  you  and  your  shallop  for  the  service  of  my 
master,  the  King  of  England,  soon  to  be  the  master  of 
your  master,  if  the  signs  are  right.' 

"  'All  signs  fail  with  the  blind,  monsieur.' 

"  'Monsieur,'  he  added,  with  great,  almost  too  great 
dignity,  'I  am  of  the  family  of  the  Due  de  Mirepoix. 
The  whole  Kamaraska  Isles  are  mine,  and  the  best  gen- 
tlemen in  this  province  do  me  vassalage.  I  make  war 
on  none,  I  have  stepped  aside  from  all  affairs  of  state, 
I  am  a  simple  gentleman.  I  have  been  a  great  way 
down  this  river,  at  large  expense  and  toil,  to  purchase 
wheat,  for  all  the  corn  of  these  counties  above  goes  to 
Quebec  to  store  the  King's  magazine,  the  adored  La 
Friponne.  I  know  not  your  purposes,  but  I  trust  you 
will  not  push  your  advantage'— he  waved  towards  our 
muskets— 'against  a  private  gentleman.'     .... 

"  'You  and  your  men,  Chevalier,  shall  row  us  to 
Louisburg'  ....  For  a.  moment  the  excellent 
gentleman  was  mute,  ....  'I  am  the  Chevalier 
de  la'— he  began. 


46  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

cused  the  duty  to  row  his  enemies;'  to  which,  in  short, 
our  hero  answered:  'Monsieur,  you  know  self-preser- 
vation is  the  first  law  of  nature;  la  for  time  dc  guerre 
has  put  you  in  our  hands,  and  luckily,  I  hope,  for  us; 
and  were  you,  Monsieur,  the  great  French  King  him- 
self and  every  man  standing  there  a  peer  of  his  realm, 
depend  upon  it,  'twould  be  your  fates  to  row  a  British 
subject  now.'  At  these  last  mighty  words,  stem  reso- 
lution sat  upon  his  countenance,  which  the  Canadian 
beheld,  and  with  reluctance  temporized." 

Stobo  Passes  a  French  Frigate. 
(Pages  52-53.) 

"Their  constant  labor,  and  the  favorable  breeze,  at 
length  brings  up  this  land,  which,  when  abreast,  dis- 
closes to  the  view  a  lofty  frigate,  which  had  been  con- 
voy to  the  fleet  of  transports  under  the  command  of 
Monsieur  Channon;  her  charge  was  gone  before,  and 
following  she  was  turning  up  the  river.  This  sudden 
and  dreadful  apparition  gave  no  small  alarm,  but  faith- 
ful it's  resolved,  since  stand  to  fight  they  could  not,  to 
run  while  they  could  swim.  The  Major  then,  well 
armed,  and  resolutely  bent  on  his  escape,  down  by  the 
tiller  sets,  and  with  a  sacred  oath  declares  that  the  first 
man  who  offered  anything  to  stop  the  shallop's  way,  by 
slighting  of  his  oar,  or  otherwise,  that  instant  he  should 
die,  and  ordered  them  to  pull  with  vigor,  and  well  to 
spread  the  sail.  So,  as  the  frigate  stood  across  the  river, 
at  a  distance  they  passed  by  her  stern.  The  usual  sig- 
nal to  bring  to  was  fired,  they  paid  it  no  respect;  a  sec- 


SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OE  FICTION  47 

THE   SEATS  OF   THE  MIGHTY 

"  'If  you  were  King  Louis  himself,  and  every  man 
in  your  boat  a  peer  of  his  realm,  you  should  row  a 
British  subject  now,'  said  I;  'or,  if  you  choose,  you 
shall  have  fighting  instead.'  I  meant  there  should  be 
nothing  uncertain  in  my  words.  'I  surrender,'  said 
he;  'and  if  you  are  bent  on  shaming  me,  let  us  have  it 
over  soon.'  " 


Moray  Passes  a  French  Frigate. 
(Pages  270-271.) 

"A  good  breeze  brought  up  this  land,  and  when  we 
were  abreast  of  it  a  lofty  frigate  was  disclosed  to  view 
—a  convoy  (so  the  Chevalier  said)  to  a  fleet  of  trans- 
ports which  that  morning  had  gone  up  the  river.  I  re- 
solved instantly,  since  fight  was  useless,  to  make  a  run 
for  it.  Seating  myself  at  the  tiller,  I  declared  solemnly 
that  I  would  shoot  the  first  man  who  dared  to  stop  the 
shallop's  way,  to  make  sign,  or  speak  a  word.  So,  as 
the  frigate  stood  across  the  river,  I  had  all  sail  set, 
roused  the  men  at  the  oars,  and  we  came  running  by  her 
stern.  Our  prisoners  were  keen  enough  to  get  past  in 
safety,  for  they  were  between  two  fires,  and  the  excel- 
lent Chevalier  was  as  alert  and  laborious  as  the  rest. 
They  signalled  us  from  the  frigate  by  a  shot  to  bring  to, 
but  we  came  on  gallantly.  Another  shot  whizzed  by  at 
a  distance,  but  we  did  not  change  our  course,  and  then 
balls  came  flying  over  our  heads,  dropping  round  us, 


48  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

ond  followed  with  the  same  whizzing  noises ;  the  third, 
a  shot  came  whizzing  o'er  their  heads;  and  then  she 
fired  shot  after  shot,  as  long  as  they  could  reach  the 
shallop;  and  now  the  balls  would  cool  their  fiery  indig- 
nation in  the  briny  wave,  and  rise  again  and  o  'er  them 
fly;  and  some,  at  length  fall  short;  but,  by  kind  Provi- 
dence, not  one  could  hit  them." 

A  Boat  on  the  Beach. 
(Page  54.) 

"It  happened  as  they  sailed  along  in  shore,  they 
spy'd  a  boat  was  lying  on  the  beach,  and  toward  the 
shore  they  stand,  and  run  the  shallop  close  aground. 
When  they  got  to  her,  she  had  n'er  an  oar.  'Look  well 
about,  my  friends,  they're  not  far  off;'  and  now  they 
beat  about  each  bush,  and  presently  they're  found." 

Stobo  Parts  with  Darante. 
(Pages  54-55.) 

"Monsieur  Darante 's  looks  expressed  his  joy  at  this 
glad  sight,  and  hoped  they'd  now  let  him  depart,  to 
whom  the  Major  answered  thus:  'Monsieur  Chev.  la 
Darante,  ....  Do  you  engage  upon  your  high 
born  honor  that  you  shall  not  divulge,  by  means  direct 
or  indirect,  to  any  soul  on  earth  what  brought  you  back 
thus  far  till  you  shall  reach  the  Camaraski  Isles ;  then, 
if  you  choose  it,  tell  all  Canada;  and  do  you  undertake 
the  same  for  these,  your  servants  f  This  it  is  that  hin- 
ders your  departure.'  O'erjoyed  to  find  that  he  shall 
go  home,  he  readily  complied.    'Then,  Monsieur,  your 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  49 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

cooling  their  hot  protests  in  the  river.    But  none  struck 
us,  and  presently  all  fell  short." 


A  Boat  on  the  Beach. 

(Page  271.) 

"At  last,  one  morning,  as  we  hugged  the  shore,  I 
saw  a  large  boat  lying  on  the  beach.  On  landing  we 
found  the  boat  of  excellent  size  and  made  for  swift 
going,  and  presently  Clark  discovered  the  oars." 


Moray  Parts  with  Darante. 
(Page  271.) 

"Then  I  turned  to  the  Chevalier,  who  was  watching 
me  curiously,  yet  hiding  anxiety,  for  he  had  upheld  his 
dignity  with  some  accent  since  he  had  come  into  my 
service:  'Chevalier,'  said  I,  'you  shall  find  me  more  hu- 
mane than  my  persecutors  at  Quebec.  I  will  not  hinder 
your  going,  if  you  will  engage  on  your  honour— as 
would,  for  instance,  the  Due  de  Mirepoix,— he  bowed  to 
my  veiled  irony— 'that  you  will  not  divulge  what 
brought  you  back  thus  far,  till  you  shall  reach  your 
Kamaraska  Isles;  and  you  must  undertake  the  same 
for  your  fellows  here.'  He  consented,  and  I  admired 
the  fine,  vain  old  man,  and  lamented  that  I  had  to  use 


50  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FIC1ION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

mast  and  sail  are  ours;  you  know  our  case  is  desperate; 
I  '11  pay  for  them.  .  .  .  here,  too,  is  money  for  your 
wheat,  which  was  cast  into  the  river.'  " 

Stobo  Encounters  a  Sloop  at  Anchor. 
(Page  55.) 

"But  with  the  morning  they  espy'd  land  just  opened, 
and  a  sloop  at  anchor,  riding  under  a  point  of  land, 
and  her  long  pendant  waving  in  the  wind.  No  sooner 
they're  seen,  but  straight  the  signal's  fired,  to  bring  to; 
to  press  their  hands  it's  likely,  but  they  would  not 
come;  then  she  let  fly  a  swivel,  loaded  with  grape,  and 
after  that  another,  and  riddled  all  their  sail,  but  no 
more  damage  did;  and  on  they  sailing,  row'd  and 
pushed  it  all  that  day  and  the  next,     .     .     .     ." 

Stobo 's  Boat  Wrecked. 
(Pages  55-56.) 

"It  was  toward  the  evening,  the  sky  began  to  lower, 
the  wind  to  rise,  and  here's  a  cobbling  sea;  but  still 
they  keep  their  course,  till  it  at  last  turns  dangerous  to 
keep  out,  and  it  is  deemed  best  to  run  her  in  ashore; 
then  ease  away  the  sail,  the  helm  aweather,  brings  her 
large  before  the  wind.  It  now  was  dark,  and  hard  it 
blow'd,  and  there's  a  mighty  surf  upon  the  shore;  but 
there's  no  choice,  the  coast  is  all  alike,  and  in  they  let 
her  drive,  and  close  in  shore  she  runs  upon  a  rock, 
which  bulged  her  bows  open  at  once,  and  in  the  water 
gushed;  the  waves  break  over  her,  anon  she's  filled;  all 
hands  jump  out,  take  with  them  what  they  could,  and 


SOME  BIDDEN   so  I  RCES  OF   FICTION  51 

THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY 

him  so.  'Then,'  said  I,  'you  may  depart  with  your 
shallop.  Your  mast  and  sail,  however,  must  be  ours; 
and  for  these  I  will  pay.  I  will  also  pay  for  the  wheat 
which    was   thrown  into  the  river,     .     .     .     .'  " 

Moray  Encounters  a  Sloop  at  Anchor. 
(Page  272.) 

"All  night  we  jogged  along  with  easy  sail,  but  just 
at  dawn,  in  a  sudden  opening  of  the  land,  we  saw  a 
sloop  at  anchor  near  a  wooded  point,  her  pennant  fly- 
ing. We  pushed  along,  unheeding  her  fiery  signal  to 
bring  to ;  and  declining,  she  let  fly  a  swivel  loaded  with 
grape,  and  again  another,  riddling  our  sail;  but  we  were 
travelling  with  wind  and  tide,  and  soon  we  left  the  in- 
dignant patrol  behind." 

Moray's  Boat  Wrecked. 
(Page  272-273.) 

"Towards  evening  came  a  freshening  wind  and  a 
cobbling  sea,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  make  for  shore. 
So,  easing  the  sail,  we  brought  our  shallop  before  the 
wind.  It  was  very  dark,  and  there  was  a  heavy  surf 
running;  but  we  had  to  take  our  fortune  as  it  came, 
and  we  let  drive  for  the  unknown  shore,  for  it  was  all 
alike  to  us.  Presently,  as  we  ran  close  in,  our  boat 
came  hard  upon  a  rock,  which  bulged  her  bows  open. 
Taking  what  provisions  we  could,  we  left  our  poor 
craft  upon  the  rocks,  and  fought  our  way  to  safety." 


52  SOME   HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

seek  their  safety  from  the  shore.  Right  luckily  for 
them  they  were  so  near,  and  yet  with  much  difficulty 
they  gained  the  land,  all  soaked,  and  some  provisions 
lost;  but  for  the  boat  there's  no  relief,  for  the  hard 
hearted  surf  and  harder  rocks  demolished  her  betwixt 
them. ' ' 

Stobo  Captures  Two  Vessels. 
(Pages  57-63.) 

"Full  eight  days  here  had  passed  to  little  purpose, 
and  short  allowance  makes  them  hasten  for  the  launch 
of  their  frail  cutter;  and  on  the  very  day  agreed  on  for 
that  purpose,  whilst  yet  the  sun  was  hanging  in  the 
west,  and  more  than  half  his  downward  course  had  run, 
two  sails  are  standing  down  the  river,  and  edging 
tow'rd  the  shore;  they  let  their  anchors  go  right  off  the 
place  where  our  frail  vessel  sat  upon  the  stocks.  .  .  . 
and  now  could  I  divide  the  force  of  either  vessel,  and 
calmly,  under  cloud  of  night,  steal  on  her  by  surprise; 
then  might  I  hope  success ;  the  very  thought  elates  my 
soul— by  Jove  she's  mine;  ....  And  now  he 
calls  a  council,  and  communicates  his  mind:  .... 
they  are  ordered  not  to  rise  nor  stir,  but  to  keep  close 
upon  the  ground,  till  he  should  give  the  signal  they 
agreed  on;  then  a  long  straight  stick  is  cut  from  out  the 
bush,  to  which,  at  top,  he  fastens  a  white  handkerchief, 
and  .  .  .  .  marches  to  the  water's  edge,  .  .  . 
he  fires  his  signal  gun,  and  bears  his  ensign  waving  to 
the  wind.  The  sun  was  setting,  ....  and 
straight  the  boat 's  put  over  the  side,  and  two  men  and  a 
bov  come  rowing  for  the  shore,     ....     and  ask 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  53 

THE   SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY 


Moray  Captures  Two  Vessels. 
(Pages  273-277.) 

"In  this  labour  we  passed  eight  days,  and  then  were 
ready  for  the  launch  again.  On  the  very  afternoon 
fixed  for  the  starting,  we  saw  two  sails  standing  down 
the  river  and  edgim;  towards  our  shore.  One  of  them 
let  anchor  go  right  off  the  place  where  our  patched  boat 

lay I  determined  on  a  daring  enterprise. 

.  .  .  .  If  I  could  divide  the  force  of  either  vessel, 
and  quietly,  under  cover  of  the  night,  steal  on  her  by 
surprise,  then  I  would  trust  our  desperate  courage,  and 
open  the  war  which  soon  General  Wolfe  and  Admiral 
Saunders  were  to  wage  up  and  down  this  river.  .  .  . 
I  disclosed  my  plan  to  Mr.  Stevens  and  the  others,  and, 
as  I  looked  for,  they  had  a  fine  relish  for  the  enterprise. 
I  agreed  upon  a  signal  with  them,  bade  them  to  lie  close 
along  the  ground,  picked  out  the  nearer  (which  was  the 
smaller)  ship  for  my  purpose,  and  at  sunset,  tying  a 
white  handkerchief  to  a  stick,  came  marching  out  of 
the  woods,  upon  the  shore,  firing  a  gun  at  the  same 
time.  Presently  a  boat  was  put  out  from  the  sloop,  and 
two  men  and  a  boy  came  rowing  towards  me.  Standing 
off  a  little  distance  from  the  shore,  they  asked  what  was 
wanted.    'The  King's  errand,'  was  my  reply  in  French, 


54  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

him  what  he  wants;  his  tale  was  not  to  seek,  he  is  a 
Frenchman,  ....  on  the  King's  errand,  and  now 
he  wants  his  passage  down  the  river,  for  which  he  will- 
ingly would  pay;  ....  The  night  was  cold,  and 
he  had  rum,  left  in  a  bottle,  almost  full,  upon  the  shore, 
which  they  were  welcome  to  if  they  would  fetch  it; 
.  .  .  .  No  sooner  had  they  reached  the  land,  but  lo! 
they're  seized  by  violent  hands,  and  bound;  .... 
Look  here  my  lads,  ....  nothing  can  save  your 
lives,  except  you  faithfully  declare  what  hands  you  left 

on  board  and  what  their  arms they  soon 

consent;  ....  the  boy  ....  assents  to  pi- 
lot them  on  board,  ....  Their  patched  up  ves- 
sel, next,  is  taken  from  the  stocks  and  launched, 
.     .     .     .     off  they  go,  and  rowing  softly  on  with  silent 

stroke,  come  along  side  the  sloop A  light 

there's  in  the  binnacle,  but  ne'er  a  watch  on  deck; 
.  .  .  .  Our  hero  first  gets  up  the  side,  and  as  he 
softly  stepped  upon  the  deck,  the  trusty  pistol,  which 
in  his  belt  was  stuck,  catches  the  ratlins  of  the  shrouds, 
which  pulls  it  out,  and  it  comes  rattle  on  the  deck ;  this 
gave  the  alarm,  but  woe  to  him  who  first  came  up; 
.  .  .  .  the  Major  let  fly  a  shot  in  his  surprise,  and 
down  the  fellow  tumbled;  ....  but  quarter  was 
the  word,  and  now  the  rest  are  all  upon  the  deck.  The 
prisoners,  he  orders,  one  by  one,  down  to  the  hold, 
.  .  .  .  and  close  he  locks  the  hatches,  .... 
the  windlass  next  is  manned,  the  anchor's  soon  apeak, 
and  now   she's   under   weigh,   and   for  the   schooner 

steer 'd and  presently  she  lays  along  her 

side;  and  straight  a  dose  from  all  the  swivels  is  poured 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE  MIGHTY 

and  I  must  be  carried  down  the  river  by  them,  for 
which  I  would  pay  generously.  Then,  with  idle  ges- 
ture, I  said  that  if  they  wished  some  drink,  there  was  a 
bottle  of  rum  near  my  fire,  above  me,  to  which  they 
were  welcome;  also  some  game,  which  they  might  take 
as  a  gift  to  their  captain  and  his  crew.  This  drew  like 
a  magnet,  and,  as  I  lit  my  pipe,  their  boat  scraped  the 
sand,  and,  getting  out,  they  hauled  her  up  and  came 
towards  me.  I  met  them,  and,  pointing  towards  my 
fire,  as  it  might  appear,  led  them  up  behind  the  rocks, 
when,  at  a  sign,  my  men  sprang  up,  the  fellows  were 
seized,  and  were  forbidden  to  cry  out  on  peril  of  their 
lives.    I  compelled  them  to  tell  what  hands  and  what 

arms  were  left  on  board I  chose  for  pilot 

the  boy,  and  presently,  with  great  care,  launching  our 
patched  shallop  from  the  stocks— for  the  shipboat  was 
too  small  to  carry  six  safely— we  got  quietly  away. 
E owing  with  silent  stroke  we  came  alongside  the  sloop. 
No  light  burned  save  that  in  the  binnacle,  and  all 
hands,  except  the  watch,  were  below  at  supper  and  at 
cards As  the  last  man  came  over,  his  pis- 
tol, stuck  in  his  belt,  caught  the  rattlings  of  the 
shrouds,  and  it  dropped  upon  the  deck.  This  gave  the 
alarm,  but  I  was  at  the  companion-door  on  the  instant, 
as  the  master  came  bounding  up,     ....    I  fired 

.     .     .     .     and  he  fell  back  stunned But 

presently  we  had  the  joy  of  having  those  below  cry 
quarter.  We  were  masters  of  the  sloop.  Quickly  bat- 
tening down  the  prisoners,  I  had  the  sail  spread,  the 
windlass  going,  the  anchor  apeak  quickly,  and  we  were 
soon   moving   down   upon   the  schooner 


5U  SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OE  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

into  her  at  once;  thus  instantly  they  out  for  quarters 
called,  and  she  as  fast  is  boarded;  and  now  he  stands  at 
her  companion  door,  with  musket  ready  cock'd,  and 
boldly  orders  the  prisoners  by  ones,  and  that  goes  down 
into  the  hold,  till  all  are  stowed  away.  Then  every- 
thing that's  valuable  in  the  sloop  must  out  be  brought; 
.  .  .  .  as  hands  were  scarce,  and  few  enough,  God 
knows,  to  manage  one,  the  sloop  must  burn ;     .     .     .     . 

and  now  she's  all  on  fire Some  prisoners, 

of  those  remained,  are  ordered  up  to  help  to  work  the 
ship;  and  now  the  topsail's  loose,  the  anchor's  at  the 
bows,  then  all  her  sails  are  spread;  with  gladsome 
hearts  they  show  them  to  the  winds,  and  through  the 
rolling  waves  away  she  sails." 

Stobo  Arrives  at  Louisburg. 
(Page  65.) 

"With  steady  care,  and  all  the  sail  they  could  show, 
for  several  days  they  keep  their  course;  and  then  the 
Island  of  St.  John  from  the  ocean  lifts  its  head  to  view. 
Betwixt  this  Island  and  the  main  is  thought  the  safest 
course,  and  in  they  stand  and  scud  along,  but  little 
knew  by  this,  they  missed  the  English  fleet,  which  now 
had  sailed  and  passed  without  the  Island;  .  .  .  . 
and  now  behold  the  land  of  Cape  Breton,  and  then  the 
welcome  port  of  Louisburg  is  gained  in  eight  and  thirty 
days  from  Quebec.  No  worse  befal  the  man  who  says 
he  suffered  not." 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  57 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY 

when,  laying  alongside,  we  gave  her  a  dose,  and  then 
another,  from  all  our  swivels  at  once,  sweeping  her 
decks,  the  timid  fellows  cried  quarter,  and  we  boarded 
her.  With  my  men's  muskets  cocked,  I  ordered  her 
crew  and  soldiers  below,  till  they  were  all,  save  two 
lusty  youths,  stowed  away.  Then  I  had  everything  of 
value  brought  from  the  sloop,  ....  and  when 
all  was  done,  we  set  fire  to  the  sloop,  and    .... 

watched  her  burn At  dawn.     ...     we 

all  agreed  that  some  of  our  captives  should  be  sent  off 
in  the  long  boat,  and  that  a  portion  of  the  rest  should 

be  used  to  work  the  ship raising  anchor, 

we  got  on  our  way  down  the  broad  river,  in  perfect 
weather. ' ' 

Moray  Arrives  at  Louisburg. 

(Page  277.) 

' '  The  days  that  followed  are  like  a  good  dream  to  me, 
for  we  came  on  all  the  way  without  challenge  and  with 
no  adventure,  even  round  Cape  Gaspe,  to  Louisburg, 
thirty-eight  days  after  my  escape  from  the  fortress.  At 
Louisburg  we  found  that  Admiral  Saunders  and  Gen- 
eral Wolfe  were  gone  to  Quebec.  They  had  passed  us 
as  we  came  down,  for  we  had  sailed  inside  some  islands 
of  the  coast,  getting  shelter  and  better  passage,  and  the 
fleet  had,  no  doubt,  passed  outside." 


58  SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

Stobo  Returns  to  Quebec. 
(Page  66.) 

' '  Two  days  or  so  were  past,  and  then  a  vessel 's  ready 
to  proceed  to  Quebec;  this  wished  for  opportunity  is 
embraced  at  once,  and  he's  on  board;  and  now,  with 
equal  ardor,  wishes  for  the  place  he  strove  so  hard  to 

shun At  length  the  different  Islands  take 

it  in  their  turn  to  stand  astern,  and  every  land-mark's 
past,  and  now  fair  Orleans  is  again  in  view,  and  with 
Britannia 's  lofty  fleet  adorn  'd ;  a  cheerful  sight,  indeed. 
Now  here  no  time  was  lost  till  he  has  waited  on  Brit- 
annia's effective  General,  immortal  Wolfe,  and  thus 
addressed  him:     .     .     .     ." 

Stobo  Shows  Wolfe  Where  to  Land. 
(Page   70.) 

"The  Major's  service  at  Quebec  was  all  obedience  to 
command,  and  information,  to  his  great  patron,  best 
and  almost  only  known;  he  pointed  out  the  place  to 
land,  where  afterwards  they  did,  and  were  sucessful; 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  59 

THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY 

Moray  Returns  to  Quebec. 
(Pages  279-282.) 

"I  got  away  again  for  Quebec  five  days  after  reach- 
ing Louisburg On  a  blithe  summer  day  we 

sighted,  far  off,  the  Isle  of  Orleans  and  the  tall  masts  of 
two  patrol  ships  of  war,  ....  Presently  there 
opened  on  our  sight  the  great  bluff  at  the  Falls  of  Mont- 
morenci,  and,  crowning  it  with  tents  and  batteries, 
the  camp  of  General  "Wolfe  himself,  ....  I  shall 
never  forget  my  first  look  at  my  hero,  ....  An 
officer  of  his  staff  presented  me. ' ' 


Moray  Shows  Wolfe  Where  to  Land. 
(Page  283.) 

"  'Above  the  citadel  there  is  a  way— the  only  way: 
a  feint  from  the  basin  here,  a  sham  menace  and  attack, 
and  the  real  action  at  the  other  door  of  the  town. ' 


60  SOME  HIDDEN   SOURCES  OF  FICTION 

THE  MEMOIRS   OF   STOBO 

Stobo  Rewarded  by  Virginia. 
(Page  80.) 

"By  the  House  of  Burgesses. 

"Friday,  April  30th,  1756. 

*  "Resolved,  That  the  sum  of  three  hundred  pounds 
be  paid  to  Captain  Eobert  Stobo,  in  consideration  of  his 
services  to  the  country  and  his  sufferings  in  his  confine- 
ment, as  a  hostage,  in  Quebec." 

*As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  was  only  one  of  five   resolutions,  on   the 
same  subject,  actually  passed. 


SOME  HIDDEN  SOURCES  OF  FICTION  61 

THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY 

Moray  Rewarded  by  Virginia. 

(Page  278.) 

* i  The  letters  from  friends  almost  atoned  for  my  past 
sufferings  ....  this  was  the  first  matter  I  saw 
when  I  opened  the  Governor's  letter: 

"By  the  House  of  Burgesses. 

"Resolved,  That  the  sum  of  three  hundred  pounds  be 
paid  to  Captain  Robert  Moray,  in  consideration  of  his 
services  to  the  country  and  his  singular  sufferings  in  his 
confinement,  as  a  hostage,  in  Quebec." 


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